


Memories & Reality

by EightiesKat



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe, Alternative Universe - FBI, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Avengers Family, Cameos, Crimes & Criminals, Drama, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Hurt, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, F/M, Friendship, Love, Mystery, OTP Feels, Pain, Protective Natasha Romanov, Protective Steve, Protective Steve Rogers, Romance, Slow Burn, Team as Family, Trust Issues, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2019-12-18 05:00:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 471,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18242885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EightiesKat/pseuds/EightiesKat
Summary: This is an origin story of Natasha & Steve’s relationship in an alternate universe.  Their worlds and lives intersect in an earlier life at the FBI Academy.  It follows their journey and the consequences of their actions through the past to present day.Angst / Romance / Pain / AU.I do not own any of this or any part of Marvel or the MCUThis is my first fanfic.  I’ve enjoyed writing for a long time and found fanfiction a long time ago, so I finally decided to dip my toes in this universe that I love.Come follow me on Tumblr @eightieskat





	1. Remember

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An image board for the chapter is at the bottom!

Chapter 1 - Remember

* * *

 

**Present Day -**

Steve stood in the kitchen of his apartment. 

He was cleaning up after his dinner with his guests.  He felt the tension in his shoulders as he finished loading the dishwasher and moved to wiping down the counters.  As his hands circled over the same spot repeatedly, he was pulled away from his thoughts, “You don’t have to clean up after us, Steve.  We don’t want to be a burden.”

He lifted his eyes from the surface and took a deep breath.  Dropping the rag on the counter, he shook his head and wiped a hand over his face.  He was trying to be present.  He _really_ was _._ He gave a slight smile and turned around, “Not a big deal, Buck.  I’ve been cleaning up after you our entire lives, what’s one more night of it, right?” 

When all else failed, resort to jokes and sarcasm. 

“You know Steve, speaking of things that have been going on for our entire lives, it’s good to see you can still be the little shit you always were.  You’re just not ‘little’ anymore,” Bucky quickly answered.

Bucky laughed and smacked Steve lightly on the shoulder as he moved around him to put the leftover containers in the fridge.  He closed the door and looked at his friend before continuing, “Seriously though, I appreciate you letting Wanda, Peter and me stay with you for a little while, but I don’t want to interrupt your routine away from our job…or whatever it is you do here on your own all the time.”

There it was.  The slight hint of sorrow in Bucky’s voice. 

Steve clenched his jaw for a brief moment and let out a breath.  He leaned back against the far counter and crossed his arms.   “Buck, come on - don’t start.  You and Wanda and the little guy are moving to a new house, and need a place to crash for a bit.  I would have been pissed if you wouldn’t have asked.  We work together, and now you and your family will be around me at night too which is great.  But I don’t need the worry from you – we have mom for that.”

Bucky let out a small chuckle, “Well, she  _is_ the best at worrying about you.”

“Oh, you’re in that circle of constant worry too, Buck.  Sarah Rogers doesn’t discriminate,” Steve answered.

Bucky laughed, “No amount of concern is too small for her Brooklyn Boys.  But I’ve gotten a ‘get out of jail free card’ from her over last few years since tying the knot and giving her a grandchild to focus on – side perk of Wanda and I having Peter.”

It was an innocent attempt at a light-hearted joke and nothing was meant it.  _Nothing at all_. 

Steven Grant Rogers and James Buchanan Barnes weren’t brothers by blood, but were brothers nonetheless.  They grew up as neighbors first, and then under the same roof when Sarah Rogers took James in at the age of five after his mother died in a car accident.  Both men were born with the curse of horrible fathers.  Both men grew up with the blessing of having Sarah bestow the love and devotion she did and still does in them.  Both men were fortunate enough to have each other through childhood, their teenage years, their tours of duty in Afghanistan, and then their time to the present in the FBI. 

Both men, for having such similar livelihoods were not living similar lives in present day though.

Bucky’s path was one of light and hope and the way things should be.  He married the woman he fell in love with while in the FBI, and now had a five-year old son named Peter with her. 

Steve’s path was one of just getting by and harsh realities.  At work, it was hardly noticeable because Steve Rogers was damn good at his job, and could hide everything that was apparent right now through his hard work, his leadership, and pouring every ounce of himself into serving the FBI and his country. 

It was hardly noticeable, but for those who knew him best, all it took was to be around him outside of work for a little while, like tonight.  Bucky knew the time away from work that most people lived for, Steve now loathed.  His thoughts were consumed by memories and shattered ideas of what should have been.  So yes, the men that had been through everything together in their lives, found themselves on very different paths, but the brotherly love and friendship was still there. 

So, when Bucky just mentioned jokingly that Sarah had Bucky, Wanda, and Peter to focus positive energy on as a grandmother, he really didn’t mean anything by it.  But he knew Steve’s brain was diving down a rabbit hole of thoughts that consumed him when work couldn’t.  He knew that Steve started thinking to himself along the lines of, _‘Well it’s good Mom has you to feel positive about, because she can’t feel that way about me.’_       

Worry crossed Bucky’s eyes again as he looked at him.  He wanted to change the subject because dinner had been active with Peter’s five-year old antics.  It _had_ been a nice distraction for everyone, but for most importantly, Steve.  So, he tried to lighten the tone again, “Come on Steve, I didn’t mean anything by it.  Peter gives our mom and all of us plenty to worry about – the kid’s squirrelly behavior is going to be the death of all of us.” 

Steve smiled in a way that Bucky knew was placating him and shoving aside the undertones of their conversation, but it was better than nothing.  He responded to Bucky, “I know Buck, no harm foul.  Seriously, I’m really glad to have you, Wanda, and Peter here with me - for however long you need.  It’ll give me a chance to seriously up my Uncle Steve game.”

But the worry in Bucky’s eyes shifted to sorrow as he watched Steve leave the kitchen.  Bucky sighed.  It was night one and wanted to allow his friend his space, so he let Steve be and retreated to find his family down the hallway.

Steve poured himself a glass of whiskey and walked over to his living room window.  It overlooked the twinkling lights of New York City.  The lights mesmerized him as he stared out into the night.  The amber liquid caused a slow burn down his throat as he heard Wanda, Bucky, and Peter’s voices fading into the background in one of his spare bedrooms. 

The edge of his eyes began to burn mildly as he continued to stare at those lights.  He focused on a weather tower beacon in the distance as it blinked green tonight.  His vision narrowed and he could only see blinking green anymore.  His thoughts blurred, poking at a history he didn’t want to visit tonight.  He had kept his memories at bay during dinner, but as the green lights turned on and off in the distance, he fell into a trance as he spoke to himself following the pattern, ‘ _Flash one, two, three…flash one, two, three.’_

A vague memory of a weather rhyme from his childhood came to mind: ‘ _Weather Beacon white as snow, down the temperature will go.  Weather Beacon red as fire, temperature is going higher.  Weather Beacon an emerald green, forecast says no change foreseen.  When colors blink in agitation, there’s going to be precipitation.’_  

_‘Weather Beacon an emerald green, forecast says no change foreseen.’_

That line repeated in his head each time the blinking light reflected off of his eyes.  The poking at his past that was occurring moments ago caused a crack.  Suddenly a tidal wave of memories rushed in, and every attempt to keep the past where it was – _in the past_ – was useless.  He swallowed as thoughts flashed to another life.  That tidal wave now flooded his senses with images of smooth skin, fiery passion, red hair, and emerald eyes. 

He thought of _her._

He remembered feeling the stare from those eyes, and now that image burned more in his mind than the whiskey did in his throat just a moment ago.  A warmth crept up his face as his memories continued their assault _._ Another flash of light.  Another blink of green, and suddenly that warmth turned to pain and anger – it always did.

The anger and sorrow tainted those warm memories from long ago.  Another _‘Flash one, two, three,_ ’ and an overwhelming feeling took over as everything began to haunt him.  He imagined _her_ staring at him from the night sky, blinking along with each flash.

“Are you okay, Steve?”

He thought he was hallucinating. 

Was he hearing voices? 

He shook his head, and the trance was broken.  He blinked a few times and rubbed his eyes.  Snapping away from his memories, he was sucked from the rabbit hole he was falling down again.  All of a sudden, he felt Wanda’s hand on his shoulder.  _‘I may not be hearing voices, but damn if I don’t feel a little crazy sometimes,’_ he thought to himself.  Steve let out a soft laugh as he touched the cold glass on the window, realizing it was his _sister-in-law_ who had just asked him if he was okay.

Compared to where he was a few seconds ago, his return to reality felt like being doused with ice water. 

Trying to convince her everything was alright, Steve mumbled, “Yeah, just tired, Wanda.”  It wasn’t the whole truth, or anywhere remotely close to it.  But it wasn’t a lie either.  He was tired.  And in a moment like this, he looked it and felt it, all the way to his bones. 

Steve looked at her, and she briefly saw the swirl of emotions in his eyes.  The pain, regret, sorrow, and anger – she’d seen it too many times.  All of it.  She knew those feelings and memories had momentarily infected him…again.  Everything flickered away quickly though, when they both heard Peter laughing, and then yelling at his mom to come read him a bedtime story. 

Wanda smiled and squeezed his shoulder, trying to show some comfort.  “You know how much we love you, Steve.  And you know how grateful we are for everything you do for the three of us, but I just worry sometimes you will never let go of the past.  You deserve to be happy.” 

Still feeling chills from his snap back to the real world, Steve let out a large breath but didn’t respond, so she let it go for the night.  She gave him another warm smile before going to Peter’s room and just said, “Get some rest, Steve.  We all have a big day tomorrow and need it.”

Steve downed the last of his drink in one gulp.  He thought about having another but decided against it.  His eyes moved one final time to that green light. 

‘ _Forecast says no change foreseen.’_

He wiped the small beads of sweat from his hair line and rubbed his eyes again, trying to rid himself of the burn the light had caused.  He tapped the window a couple times with his fist, ran his hand over his beard, and groaned to himself.  Wanda was right.  He needed to get to sleep.  Tomorrow morning would come soon enough, and he had an earlier start than usual with the team.  Reluctantly, he turned away and withdrew to his bedroom.

* * *

 

**_12 Years Ago –_ **

_It was the night before Steve’s first day at the FBI Training Academy in Quantico, Virginia.  He stared at the clock in his hotel room and saw it was 6:37 pm.  “Damn,” he sighed.  He was both nervous and impatient for the morning to come.  He just wanted it to start.  Now.   He tried watching TV and tried sketching in his book, but he was restless.  He knew he’d drive himself mad if he stayed put for the rest of the night, so he decided instead to go for a run outside the hotel._

_He was walking through the lobby in his sweats and saw a few people over by the bar, his brother being one of them._

_“Steve, come over and meet everyone who’s as crazy as us to be joining The Academy,” Bucky yelled at him.  Steve smiled and thought to himself, ‘It’s not even day one, and Buck already has a crowd of people around him.’_

_He walked over to Bucky while a man who stood by Barnes, stepped forward to shake his hand, “Hey man, name is Sam Wilson.  You must be this guy’s friend.  Does that make you responsible for him?”  Bucky faked being offended with a scoff, and Steve chuckled._

_In one statement, he could tell this guy was going to be a welcome addition in his life.  Steve said, “I can assure you, I take absolutely no responsibility over his words or actions.”_

_Bucky tried to respond, “What the heck is going on here?  I’m innoc…”_

_Sam cut him off though, “Don’t worry, I’ve caught onto the fact that Barnes here is all smoke and no fire.”_

_Steve smiled and responded, “He doesn’t leave much to mystery, does he? Name is Steve.  You here for the start of training tomorrow?”_

_“You bet.  A bunch of us are just having a few drinks to relax and get to know one another.  You should join us.” Sam answered._

_Bucky laughed, “All right, if you two are done having your fun at my expense…Come on Steve, kick back and have a couple.  If anything, we can do a little digging through people’s alcohol buzz and do some reconnaissance on our future classmates.”_

_Steve rolled his eyes, “Thanks guys, but I’m going for a run.  Trying to calm some nerves before the storm, you know?”  Sam laughed and nodded, “You go running while we’re all drinking – I can tell we’re going to have to keep up with you.”_

_Bucky added, “You have no idea, Wilson.  Come on Steve, don’t be a grandpa.”  Steve smacked his shoulder as he was taking a drink, almost causing Bucky to spit._

_“Punk,” Bucky laughed._

_“Jerk,” Steve answered, “This grandpa is going to run circles around you tomorrow, Buck.  But I promise, I’ll join next time.”_

_Steve introduced himself to everyone else in the bar area.  There was a Wanda, Loki, Tony, Maria, Thor, Bruce, Rhodey and a few other people that he’d have to work on remembering names and faces to later._

_A few minutes later, he excused himself and left the lobby.  He smiled as he heard everyone clinking their beers and laughing and thought to himself, ‘Next time,’ but right now he had to clear his head._

* * *

_It was chilly outside, so Steve put his hood up when he started jogging towards the trail connected to the hotel parking lot.  He adjusted to the air outside, and his nerves settled after a couple minutes into his run.  He started thinking about everything that had led him to this point._

_His thoughts travelled to his childhood with Bucky and getting into fights with neighborhood kids and classmates.  They fought against jerks and bullies as kids, and lacking the money to consider other options of going onto college after high school, they signed up for the military to fight against jerks and bullies as American Soldiers._

_It was deeper than that though.  That was the simplified version they could joke about and tell people when they had to summarize their similar decisions in life.  The synopsis of their life.  The reality was somewhere in the mixture of the men who developed from unfair circumstances bestowed upon them as children._

_An accident that stole Bucky’s birth mother away, and a coward as an excuse for his father who left when he was born could have taught James Barnes that life was against him.  That he could cheat his way through to try and get ahead because no one else could be relied on._

_Illnesses that plagued Steve through his early years, and an abusive drunk of a father whose liver finally gave out causing his death when the boys were seven, could have taught Steve to be angry and bitter towards everything.  It all could have caused him to repeat the cycle of violence and abuse like so many others fall prey to with similar points in their history._

_But the difference in their lives is they had the example of each other.  And most importantly, they had Sarah Rogers teaching them good in a world of bad, to trust and rely on one another, and that they always had a choice.  No matter how dark it seemed at times, they always had a choice to try and do better._

_Several minutes passed as Steve’s pace increased along with his breathing.  He saw a wooded area ahead to the left at a fork and took it.  Feeling the beats of his steps, his mind shifted from his past to the present again as he focused on the morning and everyone he just met back in the hotel lobby and bar._

_He took in his surroundings of overarching trees and could feel sweat forming at the base of his neck and his forehead.  He took a second to look up at the stars and all of a sudden, he felt his body jolt forward.  He slammed into something, and his body went tumbling to the ground.  His hands braced his fall, but he scraped his palms as he went into the dirt on the side of the trail._

_Steve yelled out, “What the hell?”_

_He stood up to turn around and see what he tripped over.  He was shocked to see that it wasn’t a something that he ran into, but a someone._

_Steve shook his head and wiped the dirt off his sweats and hands as best he could.  The sting from his scrapes quickly numbed as he walked over to the other hooded figure on the ground.  He said, “Sorry man, I must not have been paying close enough attention to the road.”  Steve realized he was wrong again, for the second time in a minute._

_This wasn’t a something, and this wasn’t a man._

_He looked down as the person below him stood, revealing a petite and feminine form.  She removed her hood as she wiped some dirt from her knees.  She looked up to him, revealing her vivid green eyes, as she smiled and said, “Well this is the most painful run I’ve been on in a while.”_

_Steve was speechless.  He looked at her with his mouth slightly open.  He tried to mumble out something but was unsuccessful.  She ran her hands over her knees again from where she had fallen and said, “Hey, I was just kidding.  I have a high pain tolerance, so no worries.”_

_Steve noticed how her lean figure in her black running gear made her look like a silhouette in the moonlight.  The color of her hair drew his eyes to her face.  She shook out her ponytail and red locks fell down past her shoulder.  She took a couple of leaves out of her hair and grinned at Steve’s wordless face and said, “Name is Nadia.  It’s been nice…running into you.”  The playful tone finally snapped him out of his trance.  He tried to appear calm even though he could feel his nerves firing on all cylinders as he responded, “Steve, name is Steve.”_

_She smiled again at him, and those same nerves seemed to seep out of him as he felt tension in the air.  His attempt of being calm was vanishing, so he took a deep breath.  She continued, “So are you at the beginning or end of your route?”  Finally finding words, he responded, “Uh, I’m not sure I guess.  I didn’t really have a plan tonight.  I am just trying to burn off some energy and time before the morning.”_

_She shook her head in agreement, “I always run at night.  There’s just something about it that makes me feel alone, but in control you know?”  Hesitating for a moment, she continued, “So Steve, what’s on your mind that’s making you have too much energy?”  They both began walking along the path together.  He was on high alert and his senses took everything in.  The chill in the air returned from before, but he felt warm.  He could hear their soft footsteps hitting the ground.  And he could smell a hint of his sweat mixed with dirt, the night air, and the scent of cinnamon from her hair._

_It was like he drank three energy drinks, and they kicked in at the same time.  He needed to snap out of this immediately if he was ever going to appear somewhat normal.  “Sorry.  Nadia, right?  This is the part where I respond to you and act like this was a normal meeting between two people.”_

_She looked up at him as he continued, “I’m starting in a training program tomorrow morning, and I just want it to be here.  I hate waiting, and now it’s like the anticipation is driving me crazy.  So, I needed to get out and run some of it off.  Am I making any sense?”  Steve started to feel more like himself as she answered, “Complete sense.  Anticipation can be…unpleasant at times.  It’s good to keep your body and mind busy.”_

_They both relaxed and found their conversation flowing smoothly as they continued to walk beneath the night sky.  He asked what she was here for, and she said she was in town visiting some people.  She asked what his training was for that had him so nervous.  He corrected her, he told her he was more excited than nervous and confessed it was for the FBI training program.  She joked and acted serious at his confession, “Are you going to arrest me for obstruction of the running path?”_

_He laughed, “You know, I’m not aware of that specific violation.  So, I’ll let it slide…just this once.”_

_There was a pause after ten minutes of walking and talking, and Steve felt the tension between them return.  His pulse increased a little as she stopped walking.  She turned her head to look into his eyes and raised her hand to his cheek.  Her thumb grazed his skin.  That tension turned to electricity because they both felt a spark at the contact.  Her lips curved into a smirk, and she moved her hand to the side of his head.  She pulled a small piece of grass from his hair from when he fell and said, “Souvenir to remember me by I guess.”_

_She moved to give the blade to Steve, and he finally felt some confidence form as his lips curved upward.  His hand lingered at the contact.  His fingers moved against her palm as if he was reading it, and saw goosebumps appear on her forearm._

_‘Thank God I’m not the only one feeling this,’ he thought to himself._

_He picked up the grass and broke the silence, “I’ll have to keep this as evidence from our crash.”  They stood there in the quiet, and his gaze drew from her arm to meet her eyes.  It felt like minutes passed, but in reality it was only seconds.  She looked away briefly and bit her lower lip as she said, “I guess this is it.”  Steve wasn’t sure what she meant.  He was breathing nervously and saw her doing the same.  His mind raced at the thought of kissing her._

_“What?” Steve started to respond._

_“I guess this is it,” Nadia said again.  She pointed at the hotel sign, and Steve realized she was talking about their walk being done because they were back at his hotel.  “Yeah, I guess it is,” he said as she smiled, “It was really nice…bumping into you tonight, Steve.”_

_He could feel his Adam’s apple moving and the saliva forming in the back of his throat as the buzz in the air picked up.  Steve realized he didn’t like the thought of parting ways so soon.  He tried to continue the conversation a little longer, “It was the best run I’ve had in a long time.”  A nervous laugh escaped her lips as she nodded her head.  She raised her hand to give a single wave as she turned and started walking back on the path.  All he could think of was how he missed her already._

_‘How is it possible I could miss someone I met only 30 minutes ago?’ Ugh._

_He was speaking to himself again.  He might not have a clear answer to the question, but he knew he didn’t like the feeling of her turning away.  His courage from before turned into determination to make their ‘run-in’ last a little longer._

_“Coffee?”  Steve blurted out.  Nadia turned around with her lips curved as she watched this handsome, broad shouldered man be reduced to a single word vocabulary._

_“Coffee?  Yeah, it’s…it’s something, isn’t it?”, she responded.  Steve shook his head and got a grip, “No, I mean coffee.  As in, would you like to grab some with me?  I’m not ready to hit the hay yet, and I’d like to continue our conversation…If you want.”_

_She looked at him for a second and shrugged her shoulders, “Sure, I like coffee too, Steve.  Just promise me you won’t run me over when I’m holding a hot cup though.  Blades of grass, leaves, and dirt are a lot easier to shake off than burning liquid.”  Steve relaxed and laughed, jabbing back at her, “Hey I think I got banged up a little worse than you did Nadia, but I promise.  I’ll be careful around you.”_

* * *

_They walked across the street to a coffee shop that was still open.  It was empty inside as they both ordered their drinks.  They both ordered black, regular house coffee and smiled at each other, noticing the similar tastes.  Steve said, “No need to dress something up when it’s great the way it is.”_

_She nodded in agreement as she tried to figure out where to sit.  They found a corner booth, so they could have some privacy from the teenager working the counter.  A teenager who actually didn’t seem to care at all about them and went in the back and began watching TV.  They were alone._

_Steve sat on one end of the corner booth and Nadia was at the other end.  As they started to drink, the warm liquid seemed to calm them both.  Their fluid conversation from before started back up again.  Nadia talked about random topics like the music playing in the coffee shop and some friends she planned on seeing while she was here.  Steve talked about his two tours of duty and how the form of law enforcement he was joining tomorrow just seemed to fit.  He talked about Brooklyn and about his Mom and Bucky.  Nadia saw the light in his eyes and heard the love through his words and said, “Family is everything.”  Steve agreed._

_They had been talking for over an hour, and their bodies had slid closer together in the booth.  Their thighs were almost touching._

_The electricity that seemed to dissipate over the last hour through conversation, returned as they both looked down at their close proximity.  They stopped speaking as their eyes met, and it was like two hot wires coming close together._

_The spark was there again, and it was palpable._

_He looked down to her lips as her breathing became heavier.  She returned the glances at him and everything stilled around them.  This dance between their eyes continued for several seconds until Steve broke through the fog._

_He reached down and grabbed her left hand with his right and felt warmth spread up his arm and into his chest.  For the second time tonight since they met, she grazed his cheek with her fingers.  She leaned in close enough to smell his aftershave and deodorant.  Mirroring her, he cupped her cheek and that scent from before, cinnamon, mixed with coffee and each other’s sweat, was enough to make him feel intoxicated._

_This build between them should not have felt as drawn out as it did.  They hadn’t even been in each other’s orbit for a full evening.  But sparks and attraction, and lust if they were being completely honest, don’t require lengths of time to form.  All of it was there instantly, and the connection formed in their conversations only enhanced everything.  So, even though it had only been a couple of hours, it felt much longer to get to the breaking point where one of them finally acted._

_Not being able to hold back any longer, Steve leaned down and found her lips._

_A soft moan escaped from the back of her throat as she felt his mouth on her.  He pulled back for just a moment when he heard her to look at her.  Maybe it was to see if this was okay.  Maybe it was because he needed another second to collect himself…because sounds like that were going to drive him mad.  Looking in her eyes, he saw the desire he felt and watched as her pupils darkened._

_The first kiss was tentative.  The second one was fearless._

_It quickly deepened, and he responded with a low groan.  Circling around her waist, he pulled her closer so their bodies were pressed against one another.  Torsos twisted and chests turned in the booth, but there was nothing awkward about it as his mouth pushed hard against hers.  He buried his free hand in her thick hair and closed any remaining distance between them sitting how they were._

_She moved her hand to Steve’s upper body.  Anyone could have seen how strong he appeared at first glance.  You would have to be blind not to notice.  But being this close to him, having her fingers linger against his chest, and only having his clothing separating the feel of his skin from her, well this was something entirely different.  She could feel the muscles tense under her touch as a warmth radiated between them.  Her hand skimmed upward until her fingertips were grazing the bare skin on his neck._

_His grip tightened around her tiny waist as her lips parted, granting him access to her entrance.  She became overwhelmed at the feeling of his warmth, his grip, his lips, the feeling of his tongue against hers._

_All of it._

_She pulled back and looked over his shoulder for a second.  The next moment happened so fast that he didn’t even blink before their positions changed.  She moved her legs toward him and lifted herself up to straddle him.  Her hips pressed flush against his stomach, and her ass drove down into his thighs as he let out a louder groan than before._

_“God, Nadia,” he whispered._

_He didn’t know if a rational Nadia would act like this, but he knew a rational minded Steve Rogers would not be making out and groping a woman he just met in a coffee shop.  And all the night before he began his training for the FBI.  His mother would smack him upside the head if she saw him.  Bucky would buy him a shot and encourage him.  But the idea of being rational was fleeting and was gone in a second.  He was having trouble thinking clearly as he stared at her._

_She gave him a devilish grin to indicate they were still alone and spoke into his ear, “Just us still.”_

_He could feel heat coming off of her, both from her body and from her thighs surrounding him.  He wrapped both arms around her now, spreading his fingers across her hips and lower back._

_She felt his grip harden as she moved her lips to his neck._

_Their chests were heaving and their breath felt hot against each other’s skin.  He could feel a warmth form between her legs, and she felt his growing reaction beneath her.  She moved away from his neck and looked straight into his eyes.  She wanted to see the response she elicited from him._

_Biting her lip, she rolled her hips down and pushed into him._

_He could feel a grunt in the back of his throat that he stopped through a clenched jaw, and he instantly gripped the back of her head.  Tilting her head back, his lips connected with the column of her throat. Her eyelids shut, and she moved her fingertips down his shirt, low enough to dip underneath the fabric, finally feeling the warm skin of his stomach._

_The feel of her body pushing against him, her neck beneath his lips, her hands on his stomach, it was too much.  He felt like he could black out from the bubble they were in._

_The bubble burst._

_Suddenly, they both heard the bell from the entrance ding.  A group of teenagers came in laughing and yelling to the person who was working, who seemed to be their friend.  They continued talking loudly as Steve and Nadia pulled back from one another.  She removed herself from his lap and reluctantly pulled her hand away from his stomach.  Their eyes met as Steve tried to hold onto her hand as all the warmth that had enveloped them was being sucked away._

_She blinked several times before wiping the sweat from her neck and forehead.  She ran her hands over her sweatshirt, smoothing the rumpled fabric, before taking a deep breath and blushing at him._

_Leaning over, she kissed Steve on the cheek and said, “I am sorry, but I have to go.”_

_Steve blinked and tried to come out from the haze his head was in.  He looked at her and was confused as he felt her hand slip from his.  She slid out the other end of the booth and briskly walked out of the coffee shop.  As soon as Steve’s brain caught up to what was happening several seconds later, he ran out to find her._

_He looked around for the woman he just had an indecent, public display of affection with.  But she was gone._

_He stood in front of the coffee shop for a couple of minutes trying to grasp what just happened.  He didn’t know her last name.  Hell, he didn’t even know where she was from or what her number was.  He collided with her a little over two hours ago.  And in that time, she had gotten under his skin and had invaded his sense of rationality.  He thought he had done the same to her._

_And now she was gone._

_His frustration and disbelief rose as he wiped the beads of sweat trailing down his face.  He could still smell her and taste her lips.  Another moment passed, and he shook his head and laughed in disbelief at himself and the situation._

_“Jesus Rogers, what the hell is wrong with you?” he said out loud.  He couldn’t stop thinking about her, but his focus was slowly returning._

_Tomorrow, he started this exciting new journey.  Bucky would be there, everyone he met earlier would be there, and this was something that he had worked hard for.  So, no matter how frustrated he might be, his goals became clearer in his mind again.  He was going to get his ass back to his hotel room to get a good night’s sleep before the start of his first day of training._

_Steve walked back into the hotel lobby and heard the group of people he met earlier along with Bucky, laughing louder than before._

_“There he is Sam!” Bucky yelled.  Sam stood up and asked him if he had a good run.  Steve responded, “The best,” and huffed out a laugh.  He walked over to Bucky and patted him on the back, “Make sure you get some rest because tomorrow will come soon.”  Bucky raised his beer and grinned, “See you in the morning, Steve.”_

_Steve returned to his room and took off his shirt and pants.  He fell heavily on the bed in a pair of shorts.  He leaned over to make sure the alarm was set and fell asleep to images of red hair and green eyes._

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading - I hope you are enjoying it. I am sure enjoying and having a lot of fun writing it!
> 
> Come follow me on Tumblr - @eightieskat


	2. Time to Run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image board for the chapter is at the end!

Memories & Reality

I do not own any of this or any part of Marvel or the MCU

Chapter 2 – Time to Run

* * *

 

**Present Day -**

Springing up from a restless night of sleep, Steve found himself tangled in sheets and shivering in a dampened t-shirt he had sweat through.  The definition of being awake may have applied to his physical state, but he certainly didn’t feel it. 

His dreams already began to fade as he wiped his brow and shook the bedding from his legs.  He was at that precipice where you could remember the feeling you had from sleep, but the details were gone. Like a word on the tip of his tongue that would never form.  Being unable to recall those details could be a point of frustration, but it didn’t matter. 

Not really.

Because the pitted feeling in his stomach combined with his chilled body, expressed all he needed to know – his dream wasn’t quite a nightmare, but was nowhere near enjoyable either.  And it was unpleasant enough to figuratively and physically tie his body in knots, so he didn’t want to re-visit any specifics involved. 

Today of all days, mental sharpness was a necessity.  His team had an important mission they were departing for at 8:30 am, and a long and grinding day was imminent.  What he did not need was to be thinking about the damn past again. 

He groaned and tried to figure out what he should make his body do.  No sign of light hit the bedroom windows yet, but his gut told him dawn wasn’t far off.  It was a point in the night (or early morning) when it would be useless to try and go back to sleep.  All that would accomplish is another hour or so of whatever his body unsuccessfully attempted to do last night.  He looked over at his alarm clock.

4:30 am.  Another groan, ‘ _Shit.  I hate when I’m right,’_ Steve thought to himself. 

It felt like bars of lead weighed on his body while he stretched his arms, cracked his neck, and let out a gaping yawn.  His fingers fumbled around on the nightstand until he found his phone, and he saw that he had unopened text messages with his team, sent after he had already laid down last night.

* * *

_Sam – 10:15 pm “Run in the morning before AM Mission mtg.  Who’s with me…5 am at HQ?”_

_Bucky – 10:45 pm “Aren’t we going to be running enough ON the mission?”_

_Wanda – 10:46 pm “Quit being a baby, James…Sam, he’ll be there.  I’m waiting for Sarah to get here to watch Peter, so you boys will have to survive without me.  I’ll catch you at HQ for AM mtg.”_

_Bucky – 10:47 pm “I’m literally right by you in bed, and you just called me a baby…boy, I’m feeling the love, Babe.”_

_Sam – 10:52 pm “This is awkward.  I’m guessing Steve is already asleep, and I’m jealous.  I should never have started this…See you in the morning.  Don’t forget Steve.”_

_Sam – 10:54 pm “And Wanda, give your husband those pants you wear in your marriage…he’s going to need them tomorrow.”_

_Wanda – 10:55 pm “Good Night, Sam :)_ _”_

_Sam – 10:56 pm “Nighty night, Jammessss…LMAO”_

_Bucky – 10:58 pm “Shut up, Sam.  My wife calls me by my first name.  She always has…the joke is getting real old.”_

_Wanda – 10:59 pm – “Ugh.  Children.”_

* * *

Wow.  Steve shook his head. 

As stupid as those messages were, Steve smirked.  His stomach started to actually relax and any remaining thoughts of lying back down were officially erased.

He stood up and lightly smacked his face, feeling the scratch from his beard against his palms.  Throwing on his running clothes, he went to the bathroom to freshen up and brush his teeth.  After splashing some cold water on his face, his reflection stared back at him in the mirror as the droplets fell off the dark hair on his chin.   

An image that he thought was gone from his dream flashed.  A shadow of a person, and the sound of her voice came through, “Steve.”  His eyes bore into his reflection, but he fought the invasion and cranked the cold water faucet as far as it would go.  Splashing his face again and again _and again_ , the immersion finally drowned everything else out. 

A grumble escaped him, “Fuck it, it’s go time.” 

He grabbed his go bag for the office, and he put on his shoes in his entryway.  He was hunched over on the bench and heard his nephew’s voice.

“Where you going, Uncle Steve?” Peter said softly. 

Steve lifted his head and smiled.  He went over to his little buddy and mussed up his mound of brown hair on his head and said, “I got to go to work little man, but I’ll see you soon.”  Wanda came out of the bedroom just then, still half asleep, asking where Peter was.  Bucky followed, dressed and ready for the run but looked as tired as his wife.

Steve laughed, “He’s right here.  I guess he knows when his favorite uncle is leaving and wanted to see me.”  Bucky picked him up in a huge bear hug and kissed him, “You’re his only uncle, Steve…but I guess if you want to count it, go ahead.”  Wanda smiled and took their son into her arms as Peter latched on.  She shushed him and said, “Come on Peter, you need more sleep before Grandma gets here.  Or maybe I do.” 

“Uncle Steve?” Peter said through weary eyes.  The site was the definition of adorable.  “Yeah little man?” Steve answered.  Through a stifled yawn, Peter shut his eyes as he was falling back asleep on Wanda’s shoulder.  Before he was completely out again, he whispered, “Who’s Nat?” 

It may have been a whisper, but the sound of the name that was dropped came across like a loud boom. 

Wanda and Bucky exchanged looks.  Steve froze and felt the color drain from his face as the buzz from the silence in the air was ringing in everyone’s ears.

Wanda spoke and looked sadly at him, “Sorry Steve, he heard you calling out her name last night while you slept.  I told him not to ask, but he was so tired, it must have just slipped.”  Steve swallowed.  He just shook his head once, acknowledging what he had obviously said in the midst of his restless sleep. 

Bucky broke the uncomfortable moment, kissed Wanda on the cheek and said, “Come on Steve, we can’t let Sam beat us to HQ – we’ll never hear the end of it today.”

Steve looked at Wanda and feigned a smile while he mouthed to her, ‘ _Don’t worry about it,’_ before they were out the door.

* * *

“Sam, this is a hell of a way to start the morning,” Steve said as he and Bucky approached their teammate and friend.  Stretching out, Sam said, “Good morning, Sunshine.  Look at who finally decided to show up.”

When Bucky and Steve pulled into the parking lot, they saw that Sam barely beat them there.  So the fact that Sam was gloating (unsurprisingly) as if he’d been waiting for 30 minutes, was annoying to say the least.  Bucky rolled his eyes, “We saw you _sprinting_ to the entrance as we pulled in, Sam.  Give it up.  It doesn’t exactly look like you got the best beauty sleep last night.”

Sam said, “Hey, as long as I was here first, that’s all that matters.  Speaking of beauty sleep…you two look like hell.  Pete keep the adults up or something?”  Steve finished up his stretching and just mumbled, “Or something…”

Sam knew there was more to it, but also knew his friends well enough to not push this forward.  If it had to do with the mission or work, they’d fill him in, “Well, next time we look like this, we actually deserve to have a reason behind it.  How about we put a little wager on this run?”

Bucky grinned, “Name it.”

Sam quickly answered, “Loser buys an evenings’ worth of drinks for the team after we’re done with today.  And none of this ‘one and done bullshit.’ Full night out with all of us.  Wanda.  Banner.  Fury.  All of us.”

Bucky answered, “Aw, are you getting FOMO now that Wanda, Peter, and I are crashing at Steve’s place?”

Sam said, “God no.  If anything, I feel sorry for Steve.  I love my space.  But come on, we all deserve a night out…So none of this being a cheap ass, Barnes.  You and Wanda are going to have to fork out some cash to get a sitter for once if your Mom can’t watch him.” 

This could go on a lot longer and has, countless times when the two men bantering had dead time to kill, or more appropriately when they were trying to push off something they actually didn’t want to do, like go for a run at 5:15 in the morning.  Sam may have initiated the idea because he knew they needed it today, but it didn’t mean he had to like it.

Steve groaned and started jogging in place for a moment.  “See boys, while the two of you are too busy having your little spat, I’ve just been counting which drinks I’m going to be ordering all night on one of you, because I think the three of us know I’m not losing this one.”

Steve grinned and took off on the training route while yelling, “Let’s move!”  Sam answered after chasing after him, “Shit, someone’s in the mood to kick some ass today.”  Bucky shot up and trailed after.  Sam had caught up with Steve momentarily, and they both smiled at each other as they heard Bucky say behind them, “Fuck, I’m going to have to pay for a babysitter _and_ everyone’s drinks.”

* * *

Steve got back to HQ first easily, leaving his two friends battling for ‘not losing.’ 

He wasn’t racing them though.  He was running from his dream, the thoughts that lingered from the night before, and from that incessant green light on the weather tower.  His footsteps pounded on the pavement during the end of the run, matching the thumping in his chest.  Both beating away the past and saying with every thud, ‘ _not today_.’ 

After completing the five-mile route, he leaned over to put his hands on his waist and to catch his breath.  His teammates caught up with him a few seconds later and were worse off.  Bucky, literally clutching his chest as he barely beat his partner, bent over and exhaled, “Oh thank God, Wanda would have killed me if I would have dropped 300 dollars on our next bar tab.” 

“Shit,” Sam said out-of-breath.  Steve tossed him a water bottle and winked at him, “Here Sam, this drink is on me since you’re definitely buying me top-shelf whiskey soon.”  When Steve allowed himself to relax in moments like these, distracted by his friends or his work, it was such a relief…to everyone. 

That didn’t stop Sam from groaning as he sucked down half of the bottle.  Steve could still be such a little shit when he wanted to.  It caused Sam to smile and then look over at Bucky who was loving every second of it.  In all honesty, Sam and Bucky knew they were running to not lose versus running to win.  Steve may have only beat them by a few seconds, but he had another gear he could have shifted into if he ever felt challenged.  Both men also noticed that Steve was in a different world on the run, not speaking to them at all. 

Sam spoke, “Damn Steve, you just out paced us, and I know you were only at like 80 percent.  You could have hulked out on us at any point.  Where the hell is all of the adrenaline coming from?”  Steve took another deep breath as he grabbed his water bottle and answered, “I can’t help it if I make this look easy.  Remember Sam, you asked for this.”  He broke away from them to go shower and thought he squashed any concern from his friends.

Sam asked Bucky quietly what was really going on with Steve this morning.  I mean he knew.  At least he had a strong hunch, but he wanted to hear it.  Bucky just answered, “Not now Sam.  Best to just let sleeping dogs lie…At least until we get through today.”

* * *

The men met in the conference room inside of Headquarters at 6:30 am.  Each one of them went over their vests, weapons, communication gear, and supplies silently.  Like a team in a locker room before a big game, tension and the excitement for their mission started filling the air. 

All of the joking banter from earlier had dissipated from Steve’s presence now.  After twenty minutes, he commanded, “Final go through is at 7:00 am with Fury, Banner, and Wanda.  We’ll have one final check, and then we are flying high by 8:30 am, got it?”

Bucky and Sam continued going over their guns and ammo and just nodded.  Bucky knew not to press, and just said, “Ten four.”  Sam wasn’t with them the night before and concern for his team leader crept to the forefront of his mind.  He knew he shouldn’t ask but did it anyway, “Steve, is everything alright?”

To say that Steve’s joking mood had apparently washed away with his shower was an understatement.  Rogers put down his pistol and looked up at his friend with a clenched jaw and a stare that Sam had anticipated. 

Sam put his hands up as a sign of surrender, but still pushed forward, “Hey man, our asses are all out there together on this mission.  You know we trust you like you do us, with anything.  With _everything._  So, we’ll follow wherever you and the job take us, but I’m not going to ignore the obvious…that you seem a little more intense and on edge than usual this morning.  I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

Sam waited a couple of seconds and continued, “Steve come on, I know you’d be grilling us too if you thought something was up with me or Bucky.”

Steve let out a breath, “I’m fine.  Really.  I just…I didn’t sleep great, and I want to get going on this mission.  You know I would never jeopardize the job or the safety of the team, so if you trust me, _trust_ when I say that my head is focused on today.” 

It was good enough for now.  He did trust Steve.  100 percent when it came to the job and the safety of the team.  Sam said, “Okay, I get it.  Message received.” 

Wanda arrived shortly afterwards, letting her husband know that Sarah was all settled in with Peter.  She double and triple checked the men’s communication devices before the meeting began.  She would remain back in the lab with Banner, running surveillance and being the voices in the ground teams’ ear. 

Banner showed up next, followed by Assistant Director Nick Fury.                                                               

There was no surprise when Fury skipped over any small talk and went straight into his overview, “Listen up.  I don’t have to remind you of the chance we have today.  I don’t _have_ to, but I will.  We have a plan to bring in the seventh most wanted criminal by the FBI with this mission.  That’s a damn big fish to catch, and this team could use the win.  Banner, I know you’re usually in charge of Psych and Medical, but you’re assisting Maximoff in the lab today.  Wanda, surveillance and comms better be running flawlessly.  Rogers, you, Barnes and Wilson better be sharp on the ground.  Let’s bring this fucking guy in.”

His message was short and blunt.  It didn’t need to be anything else.  He had the same amount of confidence in his team as they had in each other.

The surveillance team and Fury moved to the lab.  As always, no goodbyes were given.  Wanda and Bucky always shared their concern and love privately before they arrived on days like today.  Fear of ‘what ifs’ and ‘unknowns’ were compartmentalized away and kept out of meetings like these so everyone could focus.  It’s how they all worked so seamlessly together.  It’s how they succeeded and returned home. 

The ground team swiftly moved to the plane and loaded their gear.  They were strapped into their seats and up in the air minutes later, continuing to mentally focus on the mission they were now officially on.

* * *

 **_12 Years Ago -_ **

_Steve woke up right before his alarm went off.  An internal alarm clock had been formed from his military training, but he always set an actual one, just in case.  He saw it was 5:30 am - two hours before leaving for The Academy.  He stood up and walked to the bathroom, and Nadia’s face flashed through his mind.  Soft skin, smell of sweat, touching of lips, and pressure between bodies – all of it came rushing back to him._

_“It wasn’t a dream, right?” he said out loud._

_Steve was determined not to let anything distract him from today though.  He hadn’t been through years of war and fighting just to let some random woman that he had a hot make-out session with, sidetrack him.  It was really hot though._

_“Fuck Rogers, snap out of it.  You’re never going to see her again.”  He took a hot shower, trying to calm his muscles and get it all out of his head, but he knew last night felt like more than just some random make-out.  In the span of two hours, she wormed her way under his skin and into his brain, and he couldn’t shake it.  His muscles may have relaxed, but the images of her and the sound of her voice wouldn’t stop._

_Trying something more drastic, he switched the water all the way to the coldest setting to cool him off and fully wake up.  It worked for the moment.  He packed his bags after getting dressed and headed down to the lobby for some coffee – regular and no extras, just like the night before._

_Steve read the paper as the individuals he met last night in the bar slowly started arriving from their rooms.  James Rhodes and Tony Stark gave him a nod as he overheard them talking about the political unrest and the U.S.’s weapons involvement in the world.  Bruce Banner was already down in the lobby when Steve had arrived.  He was reading a paper of his own when Thor (he thought he remembered that right) sat down next to him asking if he could borrow the sports section.  Maria Hill came down with a group of individuals, chatting about the excitement of the physical fitness test today.  Loki and Wanda were arguing about a new computer program and how they could work electronic systems like magic.  Steve smiled at hearing the conversation and pegged them both to excel in the academic and computer courses at Quantico.  He looked around at all of the other individuals and noticed everyone was doing the same thing he was.  They were sizing each other up._

_“Hey Rogers, sleep well?”_

_Steve heard his name from a familiar voice and stood to greet Sam Wilson again, “Well enough…Sam right?”_

_Bucky was the last to join, freshly shaven and ready to go.  Steve smiled at him, rubbing his hands over his own chin and giving him a thumbs up, showing he approved of the clean look.  “Gotta put my best foot forward today, right?” Bucky said._

_15 minutes later, everyone at the hotel was leaving in their vehicles.  30 minutes later the caravan of cars arrived at Quantico.  They all filed into the center building along with all the other trainees arriving and were admitted and received their intake packets.  Check-in and orientation took most of the morning._

_The class received their rooming assignments right as they went into the auditorium.  Excitement filled the air as the room quieted down for the start of the introductory meeting.  Steve heard the back door to the auditorium open once more.  He turned around, but he couldn’t see anyone that had just entered.  He looked back to the stage as the lights began to dim when the training agents started to speak._

_A tall, bald-headed man who was dressed all in black stepped forward, “When the FBI was formed…There was an idea, to bring together a group of remarkable people to fight battles for this country that couldn’t be fought before.  My name is Agent Fury, and I will be leading your training program over the next five months here at Quantico.  You’re going to be tested and pushed to your limits.  And you’ll be trained for the most dangerous situations both in the field and in the office.”_

_He had everyone in the room captivated by his tone, “But first, before we start having fun here, we need to get this physical fitness requirement out of the way.  Everyone can go to their rooms, unpack, and meet us down on the field for the afternoon session in 45 minutes.  Don’t be late.”_

_Steve looked at his training packet and saw he would be rooming with Bucky and Sam.  He took this as a sign.  It was already a great day.  Everyone that met last night started chatting about who had been paired up.  Banner, Loki, and Thor were also tripled up in a room.  Wanda and Maria Hill were in a double, as were Stark and Rhodes.  As they were walking to the dorms to unpack, someone said something about the individual rooms.  Steve looked at Sam questioningly and he responded, “There’s always two or three rooms that house trainees individually for any given reason like a special assignment or special needs and requests.”_

* * *

_Everyone unpacked, and the group of 100 trainees made their way down to the field in their work out gear.  Agent Fury and his team were waiting.  Not holding back any sarcasm, he said, “Congratulations everyone, you all managed to show up on time…barely.  Okay, we’re going to start off with the 1.5 mile run.  We’ll do this in heats of ten people at a time.  Group up according to the color on your bib number.  Blue group, you’re up.”_

_Steve looked around.  Stark had a blue bib like him, but everyone else was in a different heat.  Steve thought to himself that it was probably better this way.  He didn’t want to spark too much competition among the few friendly faces he had already acquainted himself with.  He looked around as more members of the blue heat were joining him at the starting line._

_Fury was taking his position on the bleachers with his timer as Steve caught a glimpse of something familiar out of the corner of his eye.  A woman with a red-haired pony tail, fair skin, and green eyes stood two people down from him.  She turned and looked at him, and after realizing he wasn’t seeing things, he just looked at her, confused.  She smiled and said quietly so no one else could hear, “Nice seeing you again, Steve.  Try not to mow me over this time.”_

_She winked at him, and then Fury’s gun went off._

_Steve felt a tightness in his chest and wondered what the hell was happening.  No, he wasn’t still asleep and dreaming.  No, he wasn’t imagining the image of Nadia in his running heat.  That could only mean one thing then.  She had lied to him…And she was leading their heat right off the start, turning her head and looking back to see where he was.  Steve stared at her with surprise, a twinge of lust, and a lot of confusion._

_Questions started racing through his mind as he raced on the track.  Why had she lied?  Why didn’t she find him this morning before this?  She obviously meant to try and catch him off guard to gain an advantage in the heat, which only increased his irritation.  He had very little tolerance for lies.  But before those thoughts continued, one lap had already passed and he heard Bucky and Sam yelling at him to “Unhook the plow.”  He used those feelings swirling through his body to do just that._

_Steve had a tall stature and strong physical presence, that was clear.  His muscles were easily defined in his shoulders, arms, and chest through his t-shirt while he moved around the track.  What became crystal clear was just how strong and fit of an individual he truly was.  He passed everyone else in his heat as he was inching closer and closer to the rabbit in this race, Nadia.  She turned her head back again and saw he was catching up to her.  She grinned and said heavily through her breathing, “About time you got up here.  Think you can keep up?”_

_Steve’s jaw clenched, and he let out a huff.  He knew she was trying to get under his skin and said, “I don’t know what is going on, but I am here for one reason only, to become an FBI agent.”  He slid ahead of her.  After two laps had passed, he heard Sam yelling, “Dang, Gramps has wheels!”  Laps three and four continued with Steve in the lead.  He felt confident again after feeling punched in the gut at the start of this damn race.  During the fifth lap, Steve heard her uneven voice right behind him, “I think I’ve let you lead long enough.”  Steve pushed harder and faster, but he couldn’t stop her small and graceful body pass by him._

_She led the way for a brief distance, but Steve smiled when he saw a weakness.  He didn’t know what the hell was really going on and why she had lied, but he did know that her muscles were tightening up and her glances back at him looked a little more frantic.  He could tell she was impatient and had used her final kick too soon.  With the sixth and final lap, Steve slid right beside her.  Both of them were panting as heavily as they were the night before.  Only now, they were fighting to beat each other, not to explore one another with their mouths and hands._

_The competitive fire had been stoked.  Steve wanted to win almost as much as he wanted to see her lose.  Almost breathless, Steve said, “You should have hung around a little while longer,” indicating both earlier in their race and last night, “You might have been able to see a great finish.”  He knew he was rubbing it in as he passed by her.  He knew he was going to be victorious in their back-and-forth, both in the race and their words.  He could almost feel the frustration seep from her and she came to that realization too._

_They came around the final turn and sprinted to the end.  Steve pulled ahead having more gas in the tank and crossed the finish line first, seconds ahead of her._

_Both of them went inside the track to the grassy field.  They grabbed a glass of water and knelt to sit down.  Steve was sure to keep a safe distance from her.  Gasping and catching their breath, their eyes met and didn’t move from their stare down that was forming a cocktail of emotions inside of them.  Faces were red and sweat was dripping off of them.  The attraction and chemistry still lingered underneath like the steady bass of a guitar, but it was overshadowed by the lies and confusion._

_Fury yelled over the intercom, “Rogers, congratulations.  You sputtered at the start and then killed yourself on the first test to win.”_

_The trainees had only heard brief moments of communication from Fury, but they were enough to let everyone know he was not someone who was easily impressed.  And he would not hold back on calling bullshit out when he saw it, on anyone._

_Fury turned to the rest of the trainees and continued, “I know you are all alphas and top dogs where you come from.  But believe me when I tell you, I. Don’t. Care.  The objective of this exercise is to see if you meet the requirements to be a trainee, not to kill yourselves.  And not to win the heat.  So maybe you should focus on actually getting through today.  You’ll have all the opportunities you want to impress each other after today.  So, let’s try to hold off on the pissing matches until at least tomorrow, okay?”_

_Fury rubbed his eyes while he and the other lead agents laughed with each other, showing that this probably wasn’t the first time something like this had happened and definitely wouldn’t be the last.  He finished, “Steve Rogers, the leader of the blue heat with a time of 9:57.  Natasha Romanoff, with a time of 10:04.”  Fury continued running through everyone’s times and yelled for the orange heat to line up._

_Natasha Romanoff._

_Steve’s stare hardened. The thrill from winning drained, and when he heard that name, he was left again with the all of the feelings from a few seconds ago, but now he was angry…and embarrassed.  Damn.  He didn’t even know her real name.  Natasha looked right back at him.  She knew he had caught on and could almost hear his thoughts.  The lies continued._

_Steve finally knew her last name, but that wasn’t what he was focused on, “Natasha…Your name is Natasha.”_

_They both moved to stand up, their breathing still settling.  She didn’t know what to do, but she did know that she hated how he was looking at her.  Natasha was up first and tried to reach her hand out to help Steve, but he moved away from her and shook his head in disbelief._

_God.  He was full of questions, and he wanted to demand answers from her.  But he didn’t want to make a scene.  It was the first day, and they were down on the field in front of everyone while the second heat was getting ready to start their race._

_He looked at her again.  He wasn’t going to yell, but he wasn’t going to let her get away with any of this either.  Steve stepped forward and moved his hand toward her face.  Natasha was caught off guard and a blush deepened her already reddened cheeks.  He wasn’t reaching to touch her though.  He picked a blade of grass from her pony tail, dropped it in her hands and said, “Here’s a souvenir to remember me by, since we will definitely not be repeating anything from last night…Natasha.”_

_They didn’t touch, and they definitely weren’t flirting like they were last night.  But her skin still tingled from how close he was.  She looked at him as he went over to a group of people in the bleachers.  Natasha was positive he would start trash talking her, and they would all look over her way with accusing glares.  She would deserve it, but no one looked or hardly noticed her.  He didn’t say anything about her to them.  He high fived a couple of people and then went to take a seat to watch the rest of the heats.  She was stunned.  One thing was positive for sure, Steve Rogers kept on surprising her._

_She went to sit in the stands near some people to blend in, but she wasn’t really sitting with anyone.  Her movements did not go unnoticed by Steve.  The questions began to compile in his head again, ‘How did I not pick up that she was a trainee last night?  How did I not see her this morning in the auditorium?’  He didn’t see her when everyone arrived to get their intake packets and hadn’t seen her in the meeting.  He laughed in disbelief to himself when he realized she was probably the person sneaking in last minute. ‘Who was this woman?’_

_He looked back at her one last time, and she was watching him.  It unnerved him.  She didn’t appear cocky like she had at the beginning of the race.  That interested him.  She looked like she had questions too and that ticked him off.  He was honest with her, and she had questions?_

_Next was pull-ups.  The test wasn’t timed, but had minimum requirements.  Men should be able to do 20, women 10.  Steve completed 25 pull-ups before the agent told him he was good.  Natasha finished 15 before the agent supervising her said it was enough.  Steve noticed her glare at the agent when they had told her to stop.  He laughed to himself.  He knew she was strong for her size, but her stare alone looked like it could take down the man trying to tell her what to do right now.  She looked over at Steve, clearly annoyed that he ‘beat’ her number before moving to the next station._

_The third fitness test was push-ups.  Untimed again, men needed to complete over 70 and women over 45.  Steve did 75 and tapped out, not wanting to show off.  They were not a problem for him.  Natasha completed an impressive 50 before the agent told her to stop again.  She didn’t.  She got to 63 before the man standing over her stopped counting and said she was done whether she liked it or not._

_‘Damn, I thought I was stubborn,’ Steve thought.  She was in amazing shape and could pass the standards with flying colors.  But he could tell she was fucking pissed the first three challenges went in his favor.  Steve would be lying if he didn’t admit it satisfied him a great deal to be winning this unspoken contest.  It was petty, but so were her actions towards him as far as he was concerned._

_The fourth test was sit-ups, timed to 60 seconds.  Steve completed 60, and he instantly checked to see how many Natasha did when he was finished – 62._

_Wait.  Did he hear that right?_

_His body was on fire from the test as he stood up.  She looked over at him and his sweat filled t-shirt that accentuated everything.  Wiping her own moisture away from her forehead, she walked by him and mumbled, “Crazy what happens when we’re on equal ground.”  Apparently, this was a straight-out competition now, nothing unspoken about it anymore._

_She came close in their run to winning, she beat him in sit-ups, and her numbers were impressive in push-ups and pull-ups.  He groaned as he remembered the feel of her toned body pressing against him last night, but this only created more questions, ‘What is this woman’s background that has her being able to compete head-to-head with every man here?’  It frustrated the hell out of him._

_The final test was the 300-meter sprint.  They were divided into their heats and the blue group was up first again.  Each person staggered themselves out on the track accordingly by their earlier times, so Natasha and Steve were in lanes four and five.  Steve was stretching and peeked back at her.  She looked up to him at the same time as she was stretching her calves.  She let out a large breath and attempted to smile at him again.  Her eyes softened in her expression like she was trying to be friendly or say sorry without actually saying it._

_A competition between them?  That he could handle right now.  Their little match had masked all of the feelings that he didn’t understand right now.  But a peace offering without any explanation or answers, or an actual apology?  No._

_He knew he’d pass the time for the sprint, but he wanted to beat her.  Fury’s gun went off, and they exploded from their blocked stance.  Steve felt like he was running through a wind tunnel, and he couldn’t feel anything else until she crept up on him.  Steve had incredible upper body strength, but her strength in her core was impeccable and she actually had a better overall running form.  As they passed the final curve and were coming into the homestretch, he was giving it everything he had.  She was inching closer to him, and he knew they both were running on empty._

_He beat her, barely.  This was unlike the run from earlier though.  That race was never really in doubt once he had caught up to her.  But right now?  He expunged all of his energy and barely came out ahead.  The heat of runners all stumbled over to the grass, some collapsing, some kneeling.  Natasha and Steve put their hands on their knees and bent over, both panting loudly._

_“I’m sorry, Rogers,” Natasha peeked her head up as she exhaled.  She stood up to pinch her abdominal muscles to prevent cramps and then raised her hands above her head to help her breathing.  She saw him doing the same thing, but he started pacing.  She continued, “I really am sorry.  I just…couldn’t screw this up today. Last night was…”  But she stopped as her face became flushed, remembering their encounter._

_Steve jerked his body around and crowded her personal space.  He was so close now that she could feel the puffs of air leaving his mouth.  He leaned a little closer.  He spoke in a serious tone but quiet enough so only the two of them could hear, “Last night was a mistake.  I can’t screw this up either, and I need to stay focused here.”_

_Steve took a second, and Natasha thought he might have been done.  He wasn’t.  He backed away from her and said, “Natasha, right?  Let’s get one thing straight here.  If there is one thing I learned about ‘whoever’ you are today, it’s that you may be strong, and you may be stubborn as hell.  But what you are not being with me, is honest…and you haven’t been honest since the moment we crashed into each other.  So, your apology without the truth, or any explanation, is as dishonest as everything you told me last night.”_

_He turned around, walked to the water station to down a drink and jogged over to the stands, leaving her behind and speechless, just as he was when they first met._

* * *

 

__

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading - it means the absolute world that readers are taking the time and giving this AU fic a chance. I hope you are enjoying it. I am sure enjoying and having a lot of fun writing it!
> 
> Come follow me on Tumblr - @eightieskat
> 
> Have a lovely day & Cheers!
> 
> ~~Kat


	3. Gameplay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image board for the chapter at the end!

Memories & Reality

I do not own any of this or any part of Marvel or the MCU

Chapter 3 – Gameplay

* * *

**Present Day –**

The pilot’s voice broke through the mental preparation of the three FBI Agents on the flight, “Please prepare for landing and make sure your safety belts are fastened.  We’ll be arriving at the airfield in five minutes.” 

Steve looked at his teammates sitting across from him on the small military plan.  He heard Sam break the silence first, “Hey Buck, does it ever bother you that Fury still calls Wanda, Maximoff?”

It was a random question, but it did the trick, breaking them out of their thoughts.  Bucky grinned and let out a chuckle, “Nah.  Why would I be upset if Wanda isn’t.  Besides, she finds it _endearing_ to hear Fury still call her that.  It’s how he knew her at the Academy when we all first met, so I guess it’s how he’ll always know her.”  As the men buckled up and turned on their communication devices, Sam smirked, “Fury and the term ‘endearing’ in the same sentence.  Now that’s something to really laugh about.” 

As the plane began descending, the air pressure in the cabin shifted along with the tension in the air.

Bucky looked over at Steve before turning back to Sam and said, “This is it.  We’re finally going to get him this time.”  Sam added, “Buck, it has to be, but we’ve been after this guy for so long that it seems like we’ve been chasing a fucking illusion.”  Bucky scoffed, “Or a fucking ghost.”    

“Enough.”

Steve’s voice rang over theirs, “Yes, this is it.  Stop giving him credit for bad info or botched leads we’ve had in the past.  He’s not an illusion or a magician.  And he’s not a ghost.  He’s a goddamn criminal.  We’ve been over the intel a hundred times – it’s solid.” 

“Steve, don’t you think it’s a little odd…” Sam said before looking at Bucky.  Bucky let out a breath and finished, “We’ve been through this game of his before and have come up empty handed every time.”

Steve cut them both off with a sterner tone, “None of that matters.”  He motioned between the three of them, “This team has as a more solid lead than it’s had in years for one of the FBI’s most wanted criminals.  The asshole is going down.  Today.”

“Guys,” Wanda’s voice came through their earpieces, “Remember, cooler heads always prevail.  So, keep your wits about you this morning.  He is going to use every piece of knowledge he has on us, and against us if he can, so everyone has to stay calm.”  

Fury added, “Maximoff’s right.  Everyone may have a history here, but this isn’t about that.  No matter how much he might try to bring it up.  It’s about his crimes.  Stay focused and bring me that son of a bitch.” 

Bucky, Steve, and Sam’s voices rang in unison, “Yes Sir.” 

Five minutes later, they were loading their gear into the black SUV that was waiting for them on the landing strip. 

* * *

For 25 minutes, Sam drove as Bucky checked their weapons, and Steve communicated with Wanda about their GPS location and destination.

Turning off the main road and onto a dirt path, the SUV followed a dried-out waterway and weaved through barren fields for two miles.  Sam slowed down and brought the vehicle to a halt at the bottom of a hill as the wind swirled outside.  At the top of that hill, the agents saw what they were looking for - an overgrown acreage with an abandoned, two-story farm house.

The yard was covered with dead patches of earth and weeds.  An old hog barn stood to the north of the house, and several rickety sheds were to the west.  Most of the paint on the house had been scratched off slowly over time from weather and branches on unkempt trees.  It appeared almost grey, almost dead. 

Their senses were heightened in the wind.  A shed door creaked.  Branches struck repeatedly against wood siding.  And dirt whirled around them from the desolate landscape.  It all looked and sounded like something from a horror movie.    

The SUV was silent for a few seconds before Steve said, “We’re out of sight down here, but as soon as we approach, we have to protect the direct line to the vehicle.  This is our only way out unless we want to hoof it back to the main road.”  Exiting the vehicle, Steve took command.  He pointed his finger to Sam and then to the North, telling him silently to circle the house from that direction and cover the barn.  He did the same to Bucky, but directed him towards the sheds to the west, so he could close in from the opposing side. 

Steve pointed to himself and indicated he would approach straight from the south – the line with the most exposure.  The three of them nodded in affirmation to one another, checked their spare weapons in their holsters one more time, and drew their long rifles as they moved out. 

Climbing up the hill, Steve kept an eye on each team member for as long as he could.  He crawled as he approached the crest, stopping right before the ground leveled.  Dropping to his stomach, he watched his team move in opposite directions, and covered them from any possible fire. 

Sam used a large tree for cover along the way, and successfully reached the back of the hog barn.  He peered through the jagged glass of two broken windows before moving inside.  30 seconds later he exited and gave his teammate the thumbs up, showing it’d been cleared.  He moved closer toward Bucky’s direction. 

Bucky quickly cleared the first shed and moved onto the next one as Sam approached.  He moved around the perimeter of the last building and entered through the creaky barn door in the wind.  Exiting a minute later, he and Sam nodded to Steve, signaling the perimeter was clear. 

Steve was about to move, when he looked closer at the house again.  He noticed something out of place.  In the corner of the ledge between the first and second story, he caught a glimpse of a black, circular object.  The tree branches whipped around as he looked through the scope of his rifle and thought to himself, ‘Shit.’

Still covered by the side of the shed, Bucky and Sam watched as Steve motioned with his hands - there was a camera overlooking the grounds. 

It was unlikely that the scope of the camera caught any of Sam or Bucky’s movements, but if he moved and rose above the top of the hill, Steve would be dead in its site.  He pointed to both of them, and communicated with his hands that they needed to cut the power to it.

Bucky understood and indicated to Sam that he would lead.  He started scaling the old lattice attached to the backside of the house, while Sam and Steve covered from their respective vantage points.  Reaching the ledge on the second story, Bucky stayed away from the middle of the roof, knowing the structure was weakened. 

He approached the corner, looked down, and followed the cord to the camera, making sure it wasn’t hooked up to anything explosive.  Steve and Sam watched him reach into the back compartment of his holster to pull out a pocket knife.  He grabbed a stick trapped in the gutter, knelt down to loop the camera cord around it, and cut it clean without having to make any further movements. 

Bucky climbed down quickly and nodded to Steve again as he and Sam separated to circle the rest of the house.  Steve stood and whispered, “Go time” and ran 30 feet ahead to the first tree.  He covered the team from his position.  When he saw them appear near the porch, he sprinted the rest of the distance to meet them at the at the front entrance.

Covering each other’s backs, Rogers motioned and counted to three.  He kicked in the door, and the team burst inside.  The house was covered in dust and grime and smelled of mildew.  They scoured the front area and moved quickly to the kitchen and bathroom. 

Steve could hear a dripping sound and looked up to the ceiling, noticing several brown water spots.  They moved into the living room and collectively tilted their heads.  A white envelope sat in the middle of the empty space.  Bucky and Sam covered as Steve picked it up.  He felt the outside and turned it over to see the initials ‘R, W, & B’ written on the front.  

The initials obviously stood for Rogers, Wilson, and Barnes. 

He opened it and read the message written to the three of them:

 ** _L_** _ook to your leader hypocrites, as you lie and kill in the service of liars and killers and call it justice._ _  
**O** nly I am the one you call criminal?  Prepare puny agents, for our past is about to come calling.   
__**K** now you will be brought to your knees by your memories and reality.  
_**_I_** _am Loki, and I am Burdened with glorious purpose.  Shall we play a game?_  
  
“What the fuck,” Steve groaned as Sam whispered, “You’ve got to be shitting me.  More games?”

“Or a trap?” Bucky answered.

Steve let out a long breath he didn’t realize he was holding, “Settle down.  This is not a trap.  Wanda and Bruce have scanned for any signs of life or explosives, and we cleared the area.  No one else is here but him.”  Bucky and Sam nodded as Steve noticed shoeprints in a layer of dust, going upstairs.

“One at a time.  No telling how sturdy these steps are,” Steve instructed as he led the trio up the creaky staircase.  Regrouping at the top, Steve whispered, “Three bedrooms, one bathroom.  Let’s go.”  After checking the first two rooms and bathroom, they stood outside the third bedroom.  It was locked.  For the second time in twenty minutes, Steve kicked down a door.  They moved inside, and right in the middle of the empty room, was the man they’d been looking for. 

Sitting crisscrossed on the floor, and his arms folded in his lap, he grinned and said to the agents, “Hello old friends.  Reunited at last.  Oh, how I’ve missed this.”

Bucky and Sam pointed their guns as Steve reached down to bring him up to his knees and handcuffed him behind his back, “Loki, you’re under arrest.”

* * *

**_12 Years Ago –_ **

_The physical tests concluded earlier that afternoon.  95 out of the 100 trainees met the requirements.  While five people would have to try again next time, everyone Steve had met the night before made it through with flying colors._

_The individuals from the hotel stood around in a group congratulating each other for making it through successfully.  Sam joked, “You all know training and day one actually starts tomorrow...”  Bucky laughed, “I guess that means we need our beauty rest tonight then, right?”_

_The group laughed and started to break off from one another.  Loki, Banner, Stark, and Rhodes left first._

_Bucky walked over to Wanda, “Just so you know, I wasn’t talking about you with the beauty rest.  You clearly don’t need any.”  Maria overheard and mumbled, “Good God,” and ran off to catch up with Thor who was 50 yards ahead of her._

_Wanda raised an eyebrow and said, “Bucky, right?  Did I hear that you were a soldier?” Thinking that his ‘charm’ had worked, he grinned at her and said, “You heard right, darling.”_

_Wanda couldn’t stop herself from literally scoffing at the line and almost coughed on the water she had been drinking, “Okay Bucky.  First, your ‘nickname’ sounds as childish as your pick-up lines.  Second, I don’t know what type of girls you’re used to meeting in the military, but you better buckle-up.  You’re in a whole new ball game now.”_

_Bucky’s face reddened, feeling embarrassed and defensive.  “Hey, people like my name.”_

_Wanda grinned, stepped forward, and patted his cheek lightly, “I’m not people.  I like your real name, James…now if you could only make me like that personality of yours.”  She ran off to meet the others, leaving Bucky, Sam, and Steve in her dust.  James Buchanan Barnes had never cared for his first name.  ‘Bucky’ always just fit with Steve, Sarah, his childhood friends, and the military.  So, hearing ‘James’ from Wanda’s voice was the first time he could ever remember smiling to the sound of his birth name._

_Sam gave a low whistle as Steve laughed._

_The embarrassment returned quickly for Bucky, “Oh, piss off guys.  You’re one to talk, Steve.  Just an FYI she’s not around here anymore.”  Steve looked over to Sam for help, and Sam just laughed and added, “Hey, she took off for the dorms as soon as Fury separated the people being sent home.”_

_Steve tried to act like he didn’t know what they were talking about.  He was a terrible liar, even when he wasn’t outright trying to be dishonest._

_Bucky continued, “Yeah, yeah.  Don’t even try to deny it, Steve.  We all saw whatever it was going on between you two on the track and field.  You were like archrivals - like the Yankees and Red Sox or something.  And it was all over sit-ups.”  Sam was laughing harder and added, “Nah, come on Barnes.  There were pull-ups too…What’s the story with Romanoff, Steve?  You know her or something from before?”_

_Steve could feel his face turning red but was able to hide it in the sun and just started jogging backwards away from the men.  He said, “I definitely do not know her.  Buck, you know how competitive I am…I wasn’t going to take it easy on anyone out there, female or not.  I’ll catch you guys at dinner.”_

_Sam and Bucky stared at him as he ran off and both sarcastically said at the same time, “Riggght.”_

* * *

_As Steve made it back to his dorm, he stopped as he caught a glimpse of her red hair._

_Natasha was standing up on the hill in between the two housing units.  She was staring out at the sunset, and she seemed different from this afternoon, and even from the previous night.  He couldn’t place it, but from the expression on her face, seemed at peace – a stark contrast from before.  She had let her pony tail out, and she was surrounded by the orange and red hues of the sky.  As cheesy as it sounded, she looked like she was almost glowing._

_Steve looked back to see if anyone would notice if he made a dash up the hill, but he decided to risk it.  He thought, ‘Everyone is talking about us anyway, so what the hell.’  His curiosity and questions trumped his anger from earlier, and one thing was undeniable - he was still drawn to her, and he wanted answers._

_Natasha heard footsteps approaching and was putting her hair back up when she heard Steve’s voice, “No need to do that on my account, it’s not like I haven’t seen your hair down before.”  Natasha turned around and watched him finish the climb up the hill.  He had told her off about being dishonest before, so she was completely surprised to see him near her at the moment._

_“I really am sorry, Steve.  I can explain.”_

_He nodded.  His frustration wasn’t gone, it just wasn’t as strong right now, “I hope so, Natasha.  Why did you tell me you were meeting friends last night?  Why didn’t you tell me that you were joining the FBI...just like me?  And why the heck did you lie about your name?”_

_Okay she had apologized, but now this was uncomfortable.  Natasha used an easy defense mechanism and tried to make a joke, “I guess you’re not big on little white lies huh?”  It landed about as well as their bodies did against the ground last night when they'd collided._

_Steve huffed, “For the record, I don’t consider being dishonest about who you are, and what your name is, a little white lie.  Try again.”_

_“Well aren’t you just a beacon of truth and honesty and everything that the FBI is dreaming of…God, I bet they drooled when they first interviewed you,” she started responding but stopped herself.  This was not going the way she planned.  The truth of the matter was that she was not the only one who had gotten under someone’s skin.  She was annoyed that he had ‘beaten’ her in the majority of the fitness tests.  She was irritated by the whole good guy shtick that he was portraying, and she was even more frustrated that it wasn’t a shtick at all.  That much she was starting to realize.  It was something she was not used to.  At all._

_She threw her hands up in surrender for a second before folding them against her chest, “Look, Steve.  I’m a private person, and sometimes I just don’t use my first name.  Last night, I guess it was just second nature.  But my name is Natasha.”_

_She paused waiting for Steve to respond.  He continued to watch her, clearly expecting her to give him more.  She let out a breath and said, “And as for everything else…Well I don’t actually think I have to explain anything to you, but I will.  I **was** visiting people I knew last night when we…bumped into one another.  I had been out for my jog just like you were, so I guess great minds think alike, right?”_

_Not taking to her attempt at a light joke, he made a motion with his hands for her to continue.  She groaned, “God Steve, do your friends find you this exasperating?”_

_He did smile at that comment.  The truth was yes.  Yes, they did, but they also loved him for it._

_His smile was distracting her, but she continued, “I didn’t tell you I was part of the FBI training program because I had a crush, alright?  We obviously had some crazy hormones going on and this weird connection.  I thought if you knew I was going into the FBI too, you would have tried to be ‘Mr. Official Rule Follower’ and would have gone back to the hotel right away.  So, I lied.  And I’m sorry.  Really Steve, I am sorry.”_

_‘I had a crush.’_

_That kept repeating over and over again in Steve’s head.  He had known it, and their instant attraction was obvious last night.  But, to hear her say it out loud threw him.  She could tell that she had knocked him off of his soap box a little, and stepped forward, “Something tells me that my instinct was right about you being the ‘Rule Follower.’  You wouldn’t have let anything happen if you knew I was going to be here today.  Admit it.”_

_Steve swallowed and let out a big breath and asked, “You haven’t answered all of my questions.  Why’d you run?”_

_“Way to stay focused, Rogers.  No wonder you’re in the FBI,” she smiled as he said, “I’m not in the FBI yet.  As of today, I’m officially in training.  Why’d you run?”_

_She bit her bottom lip before continuing, “Mm hmm.  Why did I run…?  I didn’t want to.  God, I didn’t want to, and I don’t think you wanted me to either.  But when those kids came in, it was like I was thrown into an ice bath.  I knew you were going to be mad at me already when you found out I lied, and I didn’t want to dig myself in deeper because you were going to be even angrier.  So, I ran.  I knew I’d see you today.”_

_She took a breath as she finished, “But I didn’t realize what a stubborn and competitive ass you were going to be toward me.”_

_His anger and frustration had completely high tailed it out of his mind.  All that was left was curiosity, wanting to accept the olive branch from Natasha’s words, and the same attraction that was there the night before.  Now it was Steve’s turn to show his peace offering._

_“You know…You’re not the first person to accuse me of being a stubborn ass.”_

_Natasha grinned as he continued, “I do have a thing with honesty and lying though.  Maybe sometime we’ll get into our lives and past truthfully, and you’ll understand why.  But, as much as I really didn’t want things to stop last night, I can see why you ran.  So, maybe I can see why you didn’t tell me you were joining the FBI…just maybe.”_

_She relaxed as he voiced his acceptance.  She put her arms down to her side in less of a defensive pose as he continued, “But…It’s probably for the best it ended where it did.  You might accuse me of being ‘Mr. Official.’  Hell, I’ve already been called ‘Gramps’ today, but I can’t help it.  It’s who I am.  I think it’s best if we just start over and try to be friends over the next five months.”_

_Steve blew out a deep breath and shrugged his shoulders, and smiled.  He extended his hand and said, “Natasha Romanoff, I am Steve Rogers, and it’s really nice to meet you.”_

_Natasha looked up at him and let out a laugh, “Why do I feel like your little speech was actually harder for you than mine was for me?  And I was the one that needed to apologize…You may be big on honesty, but you sure aren’t one to talk about feelings behind whatever walls you have up, are you?  Even though you were able to do that with me last night.”_

_Steve stared at her like he had been punched in the gut.  After not even 24 hours of knowing him, she had picked up on something profound and accurate about Steve.  He answered, “You’re right, that wasn’t easy for me…Trust between people tears down walls, so we can work on that, as friends.”_

_Steve still had his hand out in front of him as Natasha looked down at it.  She shrugged her shoulders and grabbed on to shake it, “Nice to meet you Steve Rogers.”_

_They both were trying to have a do-over.  A reboot of their initial meeting.  One thing was certain though - the contact between their hands ignited the same reaction as it did the night before.  Steve tried to appear calm, but he noticed goosebumps on her arm just as he did the first time and thought to himself again, ‘Thank God, I’m not the only one.’_

* * *

_Steve and Bucky spent the rest of the evening getting to know Sam, Tony, and Rhodes better through dinner and playing cards.  Tony and Rhodes new each other before arriving, and their banter could almost rival Steve and Bucky’s.  Rhodes was a good balance to Tony.  Steve could tell after one evening, that Stark was not a serious man by nature, and tended to rely on his sarcasm and defense mechanisms.  A lot._

_But morning came quickly.  After breakfast, everyone was on their way to their first official day in the FBI training program.  Today’s exercises involved weapons assembly in the morning, followed by assessments of boxing skills and hand-to-hand combat in the afternoon._

_Fury was waiting for the class by the shooting range and stood in front of tables full of weapons, “Alright everyone.  Welcome to the first day of the rest of your lives.”_

_The trainees looked at each other as he continued, “We’re going to be assembling and disassembling the Springfield Professional Custom .45 ACP pistol, the Sig Sauer 9mm and 10mm, and the Remington 12-gauge shotgun.  There will be no shooting today.  Once you show me you can handle the equipment, you can all have a little fun and try to show off later this week.  Everyone, partner up.”_

_Steve partnered with Bucky, followed by Stark with Rhodes, Loki with Thor, Wanda with Maria, and Banner with Sam.  Natasha found a person she just met._

_The first teams went to the tables.  Fury didn’t hold back on the tongue lashing he gave to a couple of trainees who went in the first few groups, “This is the FBI people.  These weapons are our tools.  The tools are a big part of how we keep America safe, so learn your shit.”_

_As for the people Steve started to become familiar with, Loki and Thor went first and both did a fair job.  Rhodes and Stark went next.  They were the best group that had gone so far, with Tony leading the way.  They jokingly started calling each other, ‘Eagle Eye’ and ‘Ace’ in code.  Hill and Maximoff were quiet and focused, finishing with the second best time yet.  Banner and Wilson were next with Banner coming in behind Loki’s time, and Sam finished in between Stark and Rhodes._

_Romanoff stepped in front of Rogers and Barnes with her partner (Johnson was her last name, Steve thought) and said, “Better take a picture, boys.  You’re going to want to remember this.”_

_Bucky rolled his eyes and Steve laughed, but their jaws dropped.  Her partner’s time was okay, but Natasha literally kicked everyone’s ass with her assembly time, pushing Stark now into second place. Sam gave a low whistle as Maria gave a couple of genuine claps of her hand, showing how impressed she was.  She returned to the group and walked close enough by Steve that their arms brushed lightly against one another as she said, “You might want to close your mouth, Rogers.  You’re up next.”_

_His expression quickly turned into a smirk as Bucky smacked him on the shoulder, telling him silently, ‘Let’s show them.’  Just as he was the day before, Steve was impressed by her.  But this was an area that he and Bucky knew extremely well.  They walked confidently up to the table as he stood on the opposite side of the group and just before Fury told them to go, he looked over at Natasha and winked._

_Rogers and Barnes looked like they were performing an intricate dance, putting together their Springfield Pistols and taking them apart.  The clicks, snaps, and pops with each step filled the room like a roller coaster, ticking up a hill.  They put the pistols down, gave each other a cocky nod, and moved on to the Sig Sauer 9mm and 10 mm.  The did the same dance as they found their groove._

_Click, snap, pop._

_Voices were in the background, wondering if they would beat Romanoff’s time, but Steve and Bucky blocked them out.  Spending their whole lives together, and the previous six in the military, had more than prepared them.  This was like second nature to them both.  The sounds of the gun metal played in Steve’s head, just as it did every day in Afghanistan, and Bucky easily kept up._

_Finally, smiling confidently at each other, Steve and Bucky advanced to the Remington 12-gauge shotgun.  They knew they had everyone beat.  Steve couldn’t help himself though.  He took the shotgun and cocked the barrel back with one quick thrust, just as he looked over to the group._

_Most of the group laughed and started groaning at the two idiots in front of them.  Natasha realized Steve’s whole purpose of showing off was so he could stare straight at her while everyone else rolled their eyes.  She blushed, and he grinned.  The men disassembled their shotguns quickly, stood back, and said, “Done.”_

_Fury rolled his eyes and said, “Military boys and their guns.  Seriously though, as much as I hate to admit it, impressive.  Rogers.  Barnes.  You both had the fastest times today.”_

_“Good God, you two are imbeciles.  You know that, right?” Maria said.  “I have a few other words that might fit their description,” Wanda joined in._

_Everyone else moved to the wrestling mats and boxing ring for the afternoon, while Rogers moved closer to Natasha and said, “What Romanoff, no comment?”  Natasha moved closer herself, so only he could hear.  She placed her hand on his bicep and said, “I knew you’d be good, but are you sure you weren’t… overcompensating, Soldier?”  She grinned at him as she ran off toward the boxing ring._

_His cocky smile was wiped away instantly._

* * *

_The class was split for the next two exercises.  Half went to the boxing ring, and the other half went to the wrestling mat for hand-to-hand combat.  Their group approached the boxing ring first._

_Agent Coulson was waiting for them and said loudly, “Alright everyone, today is not about winning.  I know that’s hard to believe.  It’s about being assessed in each of these skills, so we can appropriately rate you.  I don’t want to see any black eyes or blood in the ring, got it?”_

_Each pair of trainees stepped into the ring when their turn came up.  Coulson’s team assessed the trainees on speed, agility, knowledge of surroundings, and power and strength.  The rating scale ranged Beginner to Advanced to Expert._

_Coulson made people switch up partners in his drill.  Everyone but the last duo had gone.  Maximoff, Loki, and Banner were at ‘Beginner’ status.  Thor, Stark, Rhodes, and Barnes were all ‘Advanced,’ while Wilson and Rogers were both, ‘Expert.’_

_Romanoff was last and was paired against Hill.  Steve looked up to see Natasha whisper to Maria, “I’m Sorry.”  Steve had a suspicion telling her that was a mistake.  His suspicions were verified when Sam nudged him and said, “If you and Romanoff would have been in the lobby of the hotel drinking before we came here, you would have known that Hill was in the New York Police Department before this and boxed as a hobby…she’s gonna be all sorts of pissed off.”_

_The phrase ‘Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee,’ came into Steve’s mind as he saw the two women go at it.  Their feet were swift, their punches were tight, and the turns of their bodies were fluid.  They both got a couple of hard hits in initially before they fell in sync with their rhythm and timing._

_All of a sudden, it looked like they were moving in slow motion.  Natasha caught Maria in the stomach with a solid punch, and they stepped back from each other for a second.  Everyone thought Coulson would call it since he had said no bruises or blood today.  But when Steve looked over, he was smiling in admiration at the two fighters.  Their heels dug in as their dance switched into a higher gear._

_Hearing their movements, grunts, and moans had everyone around the ring in a trance._

_Maria moved left, moved right, and then went for a hook with her right arm.  Natasha moved away, but Hill anticipated it.  Maria punched her hard with her left fist, square in the jaw, causing her mouth guard and a little blood to tumble out of her lips.  A collective “Ooh,” came from the class.  Natasha found her footing and moved against Hill.  She was quicker than Maria all of a sudden and landed four succinct hits to her stomach before connecting a hard, right punch to Hill’s shoulder.  Coulson finally stepped in and said, “Great job ladies.  Expert level.  Maybe you can show everyone else how to improve.”_

_Both women shook off their hits and double tapped their fists together.  Maria told Natasha, “Thanks for that motivation right at the beginning, Romanoff.  Anytime you wanna dance in here, let me know.  I think we’re a good match.”_

_Natasha nodded and stared at Steve as she took off the padding on her head and gloves.  He walked over to her and said “Nice moves, Romanoff, but you weren’t over compensating, were you?”  Natasha rubbed her jaw as she smirked, “No need for me to do that.  Maybe I can teach you a few things sometime.”_

* * *

_Agent Melinda May was waiting for them on the wrestling mats, “Okay, final drill for the day.  Hand-to-hand combat doesn’t have rules like boxing.  It simulates real life.  And in real life, when someone comes at you with a knife or a gun, your goal isn’t to avoid the ropes.”_

_Coulson had come to stand next to her.  He smiled when she started comparing her drill to his boxing assessment, but it was quickly erased from his face when Agent May knocked him off of his feet in one swift move and put her foot on his chest as she continued, “It’s to stay alive and survive until you can gain the advantage over your opponent.  Let’s see what you all got.”_

_Apparently Melinda May was not someone to mess around, or to mess around with._

_Most of the class was rated at ‘Beginner’ levels along with Maximoff, Banner, and Loki.  Maximoff and Banner appeared timid during their drill, and Loki while outmatched, did show his spirit by getting in a couple of quick and cheap shots._

_A smaller group from the class, along with Hill, Stark, Rhodes, Thor, and Wilson were rated, ‘Advanced.’_

_Rogers and Bucky were next.  “Good luck,” they both said as they tapped their fists.  Bucky landed the first blow with a swift kick to Steve’s stomach that knocked him down.  He moved away quickly as Steve groaned and hopped up quickly and grinned, “Nice move, Buck.”_

_He charged toward Bucky and tucked his body down toward the mat, rolling in a somersault and landing directly behind Barnes.  Before Bucky could turn around, Steve swept his leg from his crouched position and knocked Bucky flat on his back.  Steve made his final move over his friend as he twisted his arm, rolled him on his stomach, and pinned him to the mat.  This hadn’t been the first time they sparred against each other, and wouldn’t come close to being the last.  May’s voice came through as Steve helped Bucky up from the mat and patted him on the shoulders, “Barnes, Advanced.  Rogers, Expert.”_

_Natasha still had to go, only she was a woman without a partner.  An odd woman out was the saying, and she felt it as everyone stared at her.  Melinda May noticed the last person to go and grinned.  Coulson said to her, “Take it easy, May.”  She looked back at him and just said, “Oh Phil, sometimes we get to have a little fun too, don’t we?  I want to see if the new girl is as good as she really thinks she is.”  Coulson rubbed his eyes and shook his head as he went and stood at the edge of the mat._

_She turned her attention and said, “Today’s your lucky day, Miss Romanoff.”_

_Natasha’s face reddened a little from the hard blow that Maria landed on her in the boxing ring, but her stern expression didn’t give off the appearance of being in pain.  She looked annoyed from being challenged by the teacher.  May had apparently seen Natasha and Maria’s boxing match, and since Romanoff was without a partner at the moment, she wanted to test the potential and ability of the trainee._

_Everyone was tired and ready for the day to be over, but the student versus teacher challenge appearing in front of everyone had sparked a new level of interest._

_Natasha moved to the center.  Steve heard her tell May, “Funny.  Luck isn’t going to play any part in what’s about to happen.”_

_May smirked as they both nodded._

_She charged toward Romanoff first.  May’s fist connected to Natasha’s shoulder, throwing her weight off balance as she stumbled backwards on the mat.  May continued to move on her, but Natasha narrowed her eyes and let out a breath as she blocked Melinda’s kick at her own stomach, grabbing her ankle in the process.  Romanoff’s grip tightened as she used the weight of her body to twist May’s leg until she fell to the ground, now lying flat on her back._

_“What the hell is going on, Coulson,” Fury said and now stood by his training agent as Coulson answered, “May’s assessing the situation, Sir.”_

_“Assessing my ass,” Fury answered._

_Natasha closed in as May rolled her body and popped up and stood against her opponent again.  This time Romanoff ran towards May.  The women moved in rapid movements.  Missed kicks, and hands moved through the air as they blocked each other’s actions.  Their groans and the sound of hands blocking fists and feet obstructing kicks filled the air like a syncopated beat._

_They moved around the circle on the mat, showing off their reaction and fighting skills to each other and to the group that stood around them like an MMA fight was occurring.  May’s foot finally connected with Romanoff’s back while she was turning away._

_“Ouch,” Wanda spoke as if she were voicing Natasha’s words for her._

_Everyone knew at this point that Natasha was going to be ranked in the highest category.  Her impressive stamina, skills, and ability were exposed as she went toe-to-toe with the intimidating presence of Melinda May.  Natasha was not to be intimidated easily though.  That was something Steve and all of her classmates were learning quickly about her._

_She ran back at May, who acted like she might be calling the match.  May turned around threw her fist right at Romanoff’s face.  The exact same spot on her cheek that Hill landed a blow on was the target, but Natasha’s caught her fist before it met her face._

_Romanoff let out grunt as she planted her feet in a wide stance, throwing her weight back at May’s body along with her fist.  Natasha took advantage of May’s loss of balance for a second and crouched down below her eyesight.  May was startled by the literal blow she felt as Romanoff’s fist connected to May’s stomach, right above her pelvic bone.  Natasha crouched down further and swept May off of her feet causing her to land on her back with a sounding thud._

_Coulson was about to step in to stop them, but Fury told him, “Don’t you dare.  May started this.  Now she’s going to finish it.”_

_Natasha knocked May off her feet and now moved toward her.  Melinda’s head was closest to Romanoff’s approach, but she quickly raised her arms above her.  She thrust her body off the ground and moved into a handstand as she wrapped her ankles around Romanoff’s neck.  May twisted her feet into a locked position.  Using the torque from her body angle, May pushed her hands hard against the mat, shoving her body upward off the ground.  The shift in weight caused Natasha to lose her footing.  She tumbled backward and May used the momentum and natural gravity as they both fell toward the mat.  Romanoff’s back smacked hard against the mat, and May unlocked her feet, sliding her thighs around Natasha’s head.  Melinda pinned Romanoff’s upper body and neck between her legs, firmly beneath her for the moment._

_Fury could tell along with everyone else that this could go on a lot longer as Natasha already started to wrap her hands around May’s thighs._

_“May.  Call it,” Fury said, satisfied that his training agent had put the impressive actions of Romanoff into place, albeit momentarily._

_May stood up, wiped the sweat from her face and said, “Romanoff, Expert.”  Natasha huffed out a groan in frustration.  She was annoyed earlier, and now she was furious.  May reached down to try and help her up, but Natasha refused and hopped up on her own.  She looked around at everyone staring at the duo and her emotions were running high.  She suddenly felt bare._

_May closed in on her and said, “No hard feelings, Romanoff.  You got a lot of skill and deserve the Expert rating, but don’t think you don’t have anything to learn…we always have something to learn.”  May walked off towards Fury and Coulson as Fury yelled, “Congratulations class.  You all somehow managed to survive day one.”_

_Everyone returned to their dorms, but Steve hung around to try and catch Natasha.  She was wiping her sweat off with a towel when she heard him say, “Those were some pretty impressive moves, Romanoff.”  He was attempting to joke around with her like they had all morning and afternoon.  But the flirtatious and friendly banter was not on the receiving end anymore.  That much was clear._

_The towel went over her face as she answered him bluntly, “Save it, Rogers.  I don’t need your pity compliments.”  Steve was caught off-guard, “Hey Natasha, come on.  I wasn’t…Look, I meant what I said.  You were impressive.  Everyone thought so.  You had to notice that.”_

_The same narrowed stare she had given May at the beginning of their bout was now focused on Steve, “Do you think I care about what everyone thinks of me?  I lost, Rogers.  Plain and simple.  So, don’t compliment me and try to make me feel better.  I don’t need it.”_

_He didn’t know what was going on or why Natasha was so upset right now.  Sure she was stubborn and competitive – that had all been made crystal clear yesterday during testing.  But Steve wasn’t giving up, “Come on, Natasha.  Today wasn’t about winning or losing.  It was about proving you were meant to be here with your ability.  Coulson said so himself.  And believe me, you proved it.”_

_Natasha threw her towel down on the ground and sarcastically answered, “That’s really great that you can be so positive, Steve.  I mean, you really have all the perspective in the world when you won the majority of the testing trials yesterday, and you were named an ‘Expert’ in every category today.”_

_Steve was downright flustered now.  Natasha had been called an ‘Expert’ in each category today too, but she was actually pissed off right now.  Emotions were running high between May and Romanoff, everyone could pick up on that.  The competitive spirit took over, and the match had gone on much longer than any other trainees’ had that afternoon.  Much longer by far.  But still, May walked off and was fine, so all Steve could think was, ‘What the hell did I do?’_

_She took a step forward and poked him in the chest.  Sarcasm was gone and now she spoke in a scolding tone to Steve, “Rogers, it is **always** about winning and losing.  Don’t be so naïve.  I can be been named ‘The Expert’ in every fucking category, and it doesn’t matter because I lost when I should have won.”_

_Steve tried to speak, but Natasha waived her hands in frustration and left the building.  He clearly wasn’t going to get through to her at the moment, but it didn’t stop him from being very confused by Natasha Romanoff._

* * *

 

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter and image board :)
> 
> I love hearing from the readers so let me know your thoughts, or come follow me on Tumblr @eightieskat if you'd like to chat about anything with the story, marvel, or anything else!
> 
> Cheers!~~Kat


	4. Unravel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so appreciative of people taking the time to give this story a chance and continuing to read.  I hope everyone has had a great week, and I hope you enjoy the chapter and image board below :)
> 
> I love hearing from the readers so let me know your thoughts, or come follow me on Tumblr @eightieskat if you'd like to chat about anything with the story, marvel, or anything else!
> 
> Cheers!~~Kat

Memories & Reality

 

I do not own any of this or any part of Marvel or the MCU

Chapter 4 - Unravel

* * *

**Present Day –**

Steve has waited for this moment for years.  He would never admit it to his friend and brother, but Sam and Bucky were right.  There had been so many failed missions to capture him, that Steve questioned if the FBI would ever actually catch the criminal.  But they _had_ caught their guy.  Ahab finally got his whale.  The only problem was there were red flags all over this particular ‘catch.’ 

Loki was waiting alone, at an abandoned and decrepit farm, in the middle of the goddamn countryside.  And he didn’t put up any sort of fight when Steve had cuffed him. 

It was all wrong, including the most blatant red flag – the ominous note that was also waiting for Steve, Sam, and Bucky when they entered the house.  It spelled out a vague doomsday scenario for the team in dramatic fashion.  Sure, the note might have seemed like another one of Loki’s typical games that he loved to play with his former teammates.  Cat and mouse, turned up to eleven.  Only the mouse had always gotten away.  So on the surface, the Shakespearean tone of it all definitely rung true of the criminal, always trying to show off his deviant side.

But this scenario wasn’t typical.

Black market weapons trading, hacking and cybercrime, money laundering, drug and sex trafficking, and an assortment of other crimes were within Loki’s network of corruptions.  That network staffed Loki with criminal cronies that were _always_ there to help him get away and take the fall for him in a couple of extremely close circumstances.  He was a genius within the underworld of crime and had formed connections throughout the underbelly of society due to his threads of illicit activity. 

In the past, the FBI developed missions for Loki’s arrest because someone on his untaxed payroll had inadvertently slipped up, causing a lead to form.  Fuckups in the world of crime were unforgiveable, often leading to death or potential leads for the FBI.  So when those missions were initiated over the last several years, Loki had been on his heels because the Bureau had an advantage.  But Loki had always escaped each of those situations because he was _that_ brilliant of a criminal. 

This time was different though. 

There was no initial slip up, and no trail of breadcrumbs for Steve’s team to follow.  A tip had been sent in anonymously to the FBI a month ago.  That information led the team to one of Loki’s minions who turned on his boss, revealing a date that he knew Loki would be at this deserted farm. 

A plan was formed.  Details were verified and information was secured, providing confidence to the FBI that this might be the actual mission to succeed.  It all seemed legitimate.  But now that Steve was here in this dreadful place with no one else, it all felt off.

Loki was extravagant as a criminal.  He was not one to hide in grime without luxury.  The team had prepared for the worst as always, but this mission was easy on the surface.   ‘Easy’ never happened in their line of work.  By the book?  Sure.  As expected?  Often. 

Easy?  Never.

Recalling what the note said, Steve thought to himself, ‘ _Prepare puny agents, for our past is about to come calling.’_ It had unsettled him 10 minutes ago when he read it.  Those words only festered within Steve since then, mutating into different worse case scenarios, and leaving him with one blaring question.  

What could it all mean?

* * *

Loki’s slickened hair glinted against the daylight when he raised his eyes from the floor.  Steve stood behind him and brought him to his feet, roughly gripping his wrists to handcuff him.  Sam and Bucky searched the bedroom while Steve began speaking, “You have the right to remain silent.” 

Sam and Bucky looked at each other as they saw him sneer at Steve’s words.  The disdain was evident in his voice as he responded, “Oh, Mr. Rogers.  I think we both know that silence has never been my style.” 

Steve let out a low breath, bordering on a growl, as Loki added, “My my, look at you.  The beard.  That dark stare.  The furious breathing from your mouth.  I have to say, I never took you for kinky, but I am _loving_ this dark and brooding look from you, Rogers.”

Steve hardened the grip on his wrists as he shoved Loki against the wall, “Anything you say, can and will be used against you.”  

Loki mocked him, “You’re such a good ‘soldier boy’ usually.  I never knew you could be rough like this, Captain.”

Steve had risen to the level of Captain back when he was in the military, showcasing his natural leadership abilities.  In the FBI, he became the leader of the team, and his closest friends and teammates called him ‘Cap’ at times, showing the trust and kinship they all had with each other.  He was seldom called it, especially in recent years.

Loki was clearly not evoking a positive vibe by using the nickname just now.  Steve knew Loki was trying to provoke him.  The FBI finally had him in their custody, and something about all of this resembled a scratch that you couldn’t reach, growing as an irritating distraction. 

After patting him down for weapons, Rogers grabbed Loki’s shoulders and pushed him into the wall again, harder this time.  Dust came floating out of the cracks of the wall like cigarette smoke from the impact of Loki’s body. 

Loki laughed, “Oh, who am I kidding?  I always knew you were rough underneath the surface, but I never dreamed of this,” as Rogers spoke over him, “In the court of law.  You have the right to an attorney.” 

Loki grinned even with his face smashed against the wall and said, “You know, Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum should really be looking out for you more, Rogers.  They should take you out, get you a massage…take you to a strip club.  You’re so angry and tense.  So much more than when we all met each other.”  

Rogers finished stating Loki’s rights and stepped back.  He let out a sigh, and ran his hands through his hair as Bucky took over at holding him in place. 

“Oh my God.  Shut the fuck up,” Bucky bellowed, placing the butt of his gun hard into his back.   Sam turned Loki around and said, “It’s good to see you’re still so hell-bent at getting under people’s skin, Loki.  It’s a little different though, now that you’re in cuffs.”

Steve looked back and stepped toward him again, “Let’s get one thing straight here, Loki.  You may think this is all part of a plan.  But you’re all talk right now.  Just remember, rats and snakes like you never do well behind the cold steel and isolation of bars.  Let that sink in a little bit.”

Loki leered, “I do love the pet names you have for me.  Rats and _snakes…_ ” He let his voice linger on the word ‘snakes’ for a moment and continued, “You definitely have had your run in with vermin over the years haven’t you, Golden Boy?”

Another huff in frustration.

“Sam. Bucky.  Take him down stairs.”  They followed his orders and left the dusty room, escorting Loki down the steps.  Rogers crouched down and rested his elbows against his knees.  Scrubbing his face and beard with his hands, he took a couple of deep breaths and tried to calm himself.  His emotions churned inside.  If he let himself dive in, it would only be the tip of the iceberg, and his wall would start to chip away. 

He knew today would be difficult.  He knew Loki would be as big of an ass as he always was.  But this whole exercise went against the grain of his expectations more than he ever thought possible.  Regardless, he didn’t have the luxury to dwell on it at the moment.

Rubbing his eyes, he hopped up and met his team downstairs, “Let’s roll out.”

They put Loki in the third seat in the back of the SUV, facing the hatch and strapped him in with chains to secure him.  Rogers opened the security locker and safe, and placed the evidence bag containing the letter and video camera inside. 

Loki smiled, “Rats and _Snakes_ , Rogers…”  Steve groaned and slammed the back door shut before Loki had a chance to continue talking.

* * *

The team moved a safe distance from the SUV to drink a bottle of water and calm their nerves before making the drive back to their plane.  They would have to stomach him for 30 minutes in the car, and it was not going to be easy. 

Sam had a suggestion, “Look Steve, all I’m saying is if you ‘hit a bump’ on this road, I can position myself perfectly and my elbow will ram into that shithead’s skull.  Then he can be knocked out, and we’ll have silence on our way back to HQ.” 

Bucky grinned and said “He may have a point.  Thirty minutes with him in the car is going to test all of us.  It’s only been 20 minutes right now, and I feel like I could sew his mouth shut.”

Steve heard his team’s words, but he wasn’t really listening to their semi-joking suggestions.  He walked a couple steps away but spoke loud enough that they could still hear him, “Something seems off about this.  I mean, why here?  Why now?  Why would he just be sitting in an abandoned house, waiting for us to arrest him, and not have any ounce of fight in him?” 

Sam answered, “Loki has never been one to fight back physically.  He’s always been weaker than us like that.”

Steve quickly corrected him, “Not weaker, Sam.  He’s too smart for a mission like this.  I don’t know.  This whole thing feels wrong now that we’re here.  He loves games, but he’s always been on the run from us.  He was just waiting for us this time.  I can’t shake this feeling like something bad is going to happen.”

Trying to reassure him, Bucky said, “Something bad for him, Steve.  Remember, it’s like you said, rats and snakes like him never do well when they’re behind bars.  And the three of us just grabbed ourselves the biggest rat the FBI has caught in years.”

 _‘Rats and Snakes,’_ Loki’s words played over in Steve’s head as he said, “If he’s the rat, then who’s the snake?”  Letting out another loud groan of frustration he finished, “Come on, we need to check in with the team at HQ.” 

* * *

They loaded back into the SUV after they called Fury, Wanda, and Banner.  Their plan was to be back at the airstrip and in the air within the hour.  Steve was going to drive this time with Bucky riding shotgun and Sam in the middle seat, all facing forward. 

As the three agents feared, Loki was not practicing his right to be silent.  Even though he was chained and couldn’t move with his back facing them, his voice carried through the vehicle as he spoke, “Don’t you ever get sick of it all, boys?  Day in and day out, you have to put up the noble fight for Lady Liberty, when you’re really only cogs in a machine?”

When they spoke to Fury, the three agents agreed not to engage with Loki.  The goal was clear – they had him and arrested him.  Now they just had to get him back to HQ in New York.  45 minutes.  Less than an hour and they would be in the plane.

Should be simple, right? 

Loki continued, “Oh, but how can I forget you have Steven Grant Rogers leading the way.  He has enough moral authority within him to shield all of you.  The arrogance that you must feel that’s disguised as security and pride for your beloved country - that is a trick I couldn’t even perform. 

Loki’s ability to bloviate at length was something else, but he was still met with silence as Steve shifted into gear to get the SUV turned around and back on the road. 

He wasn’t letting up though, “God, it must feel good, right?  To be so honorable and so _right_ all the time?”  The agents’ fists and jaws were clenched in their respective positions as their patience waned.  Loki laughed quietly to himself and let several seconds pass before he finished, “So, you want to play the silence game?  I had a different game in mind...”

Wanda spoke in all of their ears, “Guys, do you have a gag to shut him up?”  Unfortunately, they didn’t.  In reality, most captured criminals were actually silent after being arrested, wanting to wait for an attorney.

Steve started driving back down the dirt pathway as Loki went on, “Sometimes I can’t tell if you’ve been beaten into submission, or if your brains truly are puny…Alas, I truly am burdened with my purpose…The only one to see what is about to unravel.  Do you want to pull on the string?”

His grandstanding had changed over the last minute from broad to deliberate.  The reference to several words from the note that they read only 30 minutes earlier, ‘Puny, Burdened, Purpose…’ had the agents’ minds reeling. 

Steve slammed on the brakes, causing Loki’s head to bang into his seat and all of the agent’s bodies to jerk violently against their seatbelts.  Rogers exited the vehicle with Sam and Bucky following.

“The letter.”  Steve was pacing as he repeated himself louder this time, “The letter.  It mentioned us as puny agents, him being burdened with purpose, and playing another fucking game…Something isn’t right about any of this, and we all know it.  God, I really hate this son of a bitch.” 

Fury’s voice came through their comms, “Rogers, calm down.  Loki is just trying to get into all of your heads.”

Bucky spoke next, “Fury, I agree with Steve.  Something isn’t right here.  His words were carefully chosen at the end…Like they had a double meaning.”

Sam added, “So, what’s the double meaning?  We’ve searched all of his networks and our sources are solid.  He’s not puppeteering over his goons right now.  They’re not here and they’re not coming.”

Steve finished, “His network of criminals aren’t the one’s strings being pulled.  Ours are.”

* * *

Steve, Sam, and Bucky moved quickly to the back end of the SUV and opened the hatch, coming face-to-face with the overly talkative arrestee. 

Steve spoke loudly, “What are you playing at, Loki?” Forming a devilish grin, Loki answered, “You want to play now?  Oh I _like_ this.”

Sam took a step back and spoke to his teammates, “He’s not giving us anything, Steve.  He’s talking in circles…”

Bucky and Steve looked at each other and said at the same time, “Shit.  He’s wasting time.”

Just as that notion dawned on all three of them, they heard Wanda’s voice over comms, “Guys, you need to move fast.  You have a chopper coming in from the air, and four GPS signals from vehicles just moved off the main road.”

They slammed the hatch shut. 

The unmistakable humming overtook their hearing as they saw a black helicopter descend from the sky.  The heavy wind already in the atmosphere, combined with the forceful gusts from the chopper blades, actually made the three FBI agents dig their heels in the ground next to the SUV.

They could barely hear Fury cursing up a storm over the comms, but what they did hear loud and clear was, “Protect the fucking mission.”  The men shouted, “Yes, Sir” right as they saw a tunnel of dirt cascading down their only exit.  Four, black SUV’s were driving erratically up the path in their direction. 

Steve yelled at Sam and Bucky, “We came here as a team, and we are leaving here together, understood?” They shook their heads at him as they all drew their rifles.  Steve directed himself at the helicopter with Sam and Bucky towards the SUVs.

It was another one of those moments in time that moved like molasses, when hardly any amount of it passed.  They felt like they were standing with rifles aimed for minutes.  Only seconds actually passed.  The picture before them became clear and they all lowered their guns as the chopper landed and the SUV’s came to a halt right in front of them.

They were all military grade.  The FBI agents looked at each other in disbelief as they watched the scene unfold.

Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) Special Agents Tony Stark and James Rhodes opened the side door from the helicopter and walked towards them.  They looked over at the vehicles and National Security Agency (NSA) Special Agent, Thor Blake exited the first SUV.  Assistant Director of Homeland Security, Maria Hill, exited the second. 

Rhodes and Stark nodded at Hill and Thor as the four of them walked towards Steve, Sam, and Bucky. 

Thor spoke first as the chopper blades finally quieted from the engine shutting off.   “Hello gentlemen.  Long time no see, old friends.”  The FBI team looked back at the other SUV’s to see if anyone else would be exiting them as Thor finished, “No worries, they’re just back-up vehicles.  Never can be too careful with the cargo you have in tow in your vehicle.” 

After the disbelief wore off, Steve stepped forward and spoke loudly, “What the hell are the four of you doing here?”  Stark jumped to respond, “I could ask you the same thing, Rogers.  But I’m not going to waste my time with that.  CIA is taking over here.” 

Bucky responded, “You want to see about that, Stark?” as Rhodey spoke over him, “Always such a good little lap dog for the FBI and Rogers, aren’t you Barnes?” 

Sam answered before Bucky could respond, “Lap dog... _Lap Dog?_ That’s pretty hypocritical coming from you, Rhodey.  How does the CIA’s ass taste by the way?”

Thor spoke again, “Oh my friends.  I believe the NSA has equal claim on the contents of that SUV.  I will be acquiring it and leaving in my SUV shortly.”  Stark jumped back in, “Claim…Contents…Cargo?  Jesus Thor, it’s good to see that your vocabulary hasn’t normalized since we were all last together.” 

Maria lifted her aviators and placed them on her head as she spoke over everyone, “Good God, you are all still a bunch of fucking children.  Cool your ego Stark, because my title outranks everyone here.  Homeland Security is taking over, and I will be taking the prisoner with me.”  Sam stepped towards her and repeated his partner’s words from seconds ago, “You want to see about that?”

Tony clapped his hands loudly and looked directly at Steve, “Okay, time to lay down the law.  CIA is taking him.  Period.”

Steve stepped close enough to Stark that he didn’t have to yell to show he was challenging him, “The law.  Something you know all too well, but disregard whenever you want in the CIA, _Tony_.  Let me make myself clear.  I will drop your ass to the ground.  This is an FBI mission, and he is in our official custody.  Now, do _the law_ a favor, and get out of our goddamn way.”

Everyone else’s attention had turned to Stark and Rogers as Hill moved away and spoke in her own earpiece. 

Wilson and Thor, Rhodey and Barnes, Stark and Rogers.  Each agent stood against the other.  It wasn’t that they all hated each other.  Quite the contrary.  They all started at the same point, long ago and had formed what they thought were unbreakable bonds at the time. 

But time is a funny and fickle thing.  Time can heal, but it can also erode.  And their friendships and connections _had_ eroded, leaving the stronger hurt feelings and competitive sides to surface right now.

The relationships between Steve, Sam, Bucky, and their FBI team back at HQ had strengthened the longer they worked together.  Outside of some of them being physical family, their bonds grew with each passing year they worked together since the Academy – all 12 of them.   Their growth continued _without_ the people who were no longer on their team.  Stark, Rhodes, Hill, and Thor had each moved on to their own respective agencies from the FBI.  They had moved up (some remarkably high like Hill), and had moved on from their past. 

Or so they thought. 

Hill came back with a stone cold expression on her face to interrupt the tension between the old comrades, “Look, I just received notice from my boss,” pointing to her earpiece, “You’re not going to like it, but the higher-ups in each of our agencies all know we’re here, and have decided that we are to figure this out, together.” 

Fury was speaking loudly in Steve, Sam, and Bucky’s ears as well, communicating the same thing through a string of expletives, “Goddamn red tape and politics.  You listen up.  Keep him right by your side, but you’re going to have to learn how to play in the sandbox with the CIA, Homeland, and the NSA on this one.  That’s an order.”

For the direction to come across that quickly, it meant that the heads of each agency had also quickly learned of the others’ involvement.  Instead of admitting that none of them had any clue the others would be here today, they pushed it off on the agents who were present to figure it out.  There had been enough ruffled feathers between the groups in the past 50 years, so they didn’t need in inter-agency Civil-War breaking out over this debacle. 

The directives were clear.  Loki was on the FBI’s most wanted list.  The team from that agency arrived first, and had officially arrested him.  They would be taking the criminal back to their HQ in New York City, but the CIA, NSA, and Homeland would be going with them.

Thor, Rhodey, and Stark were clearly all getting the same directives from their bosses over their ear pieces.  By the changing looks on their faces, they were each accepting swiftly that this brief encounter with people from their past was about to become a lot longer.   

Stark laughed, trying to cover up his surprise and stepped towards Steve.  Tony patted him lightly on the face, “I guess Loki isn’t the only one I’m going to get reacquainted with.  Rogers, one more thing.  We’ll be hitching a ride on that bird of yours back to HQ in New York.”

Hill looked at everyone and shrugged her shoulders, “Sorry Steve.  He’s right though.  Our plane was headed back to DC and has to be there in an hour.  I’m guessing Thor’s mode of travel, along with the CIA’s chopper, weren’t planning on being in New York.  Looks like we’ll all be riding with the FBI again.” 

She smiled at Sam as she and Thor returned to their own SUV’s and took off towards the airport. 

Rhodey smacked Bucky on the shoulder, “Thanks so much for doing the heavy lifting here, boys.  We’ll catch you on the airstrip in 30 minutes.”

* * *

After the chopper took off, the silence was deafening between Steve, Sam, and Bucky.  They looked at each other, not knowing what the hell just happened.  Steve looked at his team and said, “Anyone feel like their strings were just pulled?” 

Recalling the other lines in the letter they found in the house, ‘ _Memories and reality,’_ and _‘past is about to come calling,_ ’ they approached the SUV again.  It was eerily quiet with the absence of the SUV caravan and the chopper that just flew off.  The silence was even more stunning when the team got back into their own vehicle.  Loki was not saying a single word now.  Steve looked in the rearview mirror and saw him in the back, turning his head slightly.  It was just enough that Steve could see his grin from the corner of his mouth before he turned back towards the rear of the vehicle. 

They weren’t going to speak to each other in the SUV with Loki in the back, but Wanda, Banner, and Fury were speaking for them over their comms.

Banner started, “The anonymous tip.  It must have been sent to the CIA, Homeland, and NSA too.  Whoever orchestrated it, knew our agencies don’t always play well with each other and don’t necessarily share information freely.”

Wanda quickly added, “Yeah and they had to know the connections we all shared with each other and with Loki.  I mean, this whole operation…This is what our team does, so of course we would all be involved.  But whoever ‘they’ are, also knew that Maria, Thor, Tony, and Rhodey wouldn’t be able to resist the temptation to bring their ‘FBI friend turned criminal’ in.  That each one of them would all see to being personally assigned to this case. 

The stoic faces that Steve, Bucky, and Sam displayed during their drive hid their feelings surging underneath their expressions. 

Fury’s voice spoke last, “Look, I know what everyone is thinking.  That somehow the man chained up in the back, somehow orchestrated this whole thing.  But we are the FBI, we follow facts.  Whoever started this is not clear yet.  What is very clear is Loki is trying to use our past and any baggage or weaknesses against us while he’s here.  So, the thing that we can trust…the _only_ thing that we can trust, is _our_ team and nobody else.  So, whatever type of ‘Pandora’s Box’ Loki is trying to open when he speaks, we rely on each other.  Not Homeland, not the NSA, and definitely not the CIA, got it?”

Their silence was answer enough and stayed that way for the remainder of their drive.  Steve, Sam, and Bucky could tell that Fury had slammed the door to the lab shut and had probably stormed off to his office to throw some papers around.  Steve didn’t blame him.  He wished he had a punching bag in front of him right now. 

They also noticed that Wanda and Banner thought they had turned off their comms when they hadn’t.  Mistakes like these weren’t ever made, but apparently the events of the last hour had thrown everyone’s focus into a whirlwind.

Bruce said quietly, “Hey Wanda, I hate to say this…But all these idioms and grandiose statements by Loki about games and the past and memories...I don’t know.  It has me thinking about the one person from our past that wasn’t present today.” 

Bucky caught Steve’s eye by glancing sideways in the passenger seat.  He was trying to telepathically communicate with his wife to turn off the ear pieces.  He knew that wasn’t going to happen.  If Wanda could see him sure, but she couldn’t.  But he was also trying to communicate with Steve, to not read into this and to stop thinking whatever he’s thinking.  If Steve looked over at him, Bucky could maybe get through to him. 

But his efforts were null and void.  He saw Steve’s jaw twitch, his Adams apple move with a couple of heavy gulps, and his knuckles whiten with his tightening grip on the steering wheel.

Bucky also told himself that he agreed with his wife as he heard her speak to Banner, “Yeah Bruce, I have the same feeling.”

* * *

**_12 Years Ago –_ **

_Day one was in the books.  Everyone had gone off to enjoy their nights._

_After dinner, everyone hung around the fire pit for most of the evening.  Rhodes had officially started going by Rhodey.  Everyone learned that he and Tony knew each other before coming to the Academy.  Jokes were through the roof on Thor and Loki’s birth names, two men from different families who apparently liked names that sounded like something from Norse mythology.  Wanda continued to give Bucky a hard time and Sam loved it.  A good time was being had by everyone._

_Everyone except the one person Steve wanted to hang out with the most.  Natasha wasn’t there.  She ran off after she took her anger out on him and sat as far away from him at dinner, trying to blend in again with a table of people he hadn’t met yet._

_He really wanted to talk to her again though.  He wasn’t upset at her for how she acted toward him.  On the contrary, he was confused and hoped she was feeling better._

_Steve saw her walking by the fire after the group had been there for over an hour.  Before he tried to waive her over though, he heard Tony’s voice, “Hey Red!  Why don’t you pull up a seat and stay awhile?”  She stopped mid-step and looked at everyone, ending with Steve.  He tried to tell her with his soft expression and smile that he would sure like it if she did._

_Maria joined in, “Yeah come on, Romanoff.  We could use a little more female energy to balance out the Testosterone over here…”_

_Natasha was hesitant but complied and went to sit by Hill.  Another hour had passed, and Natasha kept quiet for the most part.  Laughing and nodding along with the conversation, sure.  Responding with short answers to a few questions Maria asked her, yes.  Actively participating in conversations and enjoying herself?  Not from what Steve could see._

_Natasha looked at Steve a few times throughout the night.  Their eyes tried to have a silent conversation over the firelight as laughter and jokes surrounded them.  A couple hours into the evening, Steve noticed he wasn’t the only one eyeing Natasha.  Stark kept looking in her direction more as the night went on.  The last couple of times Steve caught it, Stark looked like he was about to say something to her, but Rhodey nudged him both times and shook his head at Tony.  He held back from whatever he was trying to say._

_That is, until the end of the evening drew near._

_The day’s activities started to wear on the group as a lull formed in the friendly conversations.  Stark clapped his hands loudly, drawing all the attention to him.  Steve could tell the man enjoyed the spotlight almost more than anything.  He saw Rhodey put his hand over his head, almost communicating that whatever was about to happen was inevitable._

_“So Red, what’s your story…I mean what are you, barely 18?  Where did you learn how to handle weapons like Rambo and fight like Rocky?” Stark stared at her with a raised eyebrow._

_If Steve was being honest, he had the same questions, but it was only because he was so impressed…and attracted to everything about her.  But Stark was being rude right now.  Natasha clearly did not want to be the center of attention, and Tony was deliberately forcing her to be the focus.  Everyone felt that way because the atmosphere around the fire shifted enough to cause people to stir in their seats.  The mood change could have killed the flames in front of all of them._

_Steve looked at her, and all he could think of, when he saw her blank expression, was the term ‘fight or flight.’_

_Tony’s jaw twitched.  He was clearly annoyed.  No, he was beyond annoyed that she wasn’t going to answer him._

_“So you’re not going to answer.  That’s okay, I’ve never been one to be short on words.  I mean we all have stories right?  My dad worked in a weapons manufacturing company, ergo I know guns.  Rhodey here, along with Rogers, Wilson, and Barnes – all military men.  Logical conclusions can be drawn to them being knowledgeable with fighting and weapons.  Hill?  Hell she had NYPD written all over her face from the moment I saw her at the hotel two nights ago, so no surprise she can throw a punch and cock a pistol.  Thor?  Into ultimate fighting.  Loki, Banner, and Wanda?  All whizzes in tech and computers and everything else that most are not great at.  And why?  Because they went to school in their areas of expertise.”_

_“Tony, come on man…drop it,” Rhodey tried to say quietly._

_Steve was getting pissed off now.  Natasha clearly didn’t want any of this, and **this** had passed the point of being rude right when Tony started monologuing about weapons manufacturing._

_Natasha finally spoke in a soft and deliberate tone, “I don’t really think any of that is important, Stark.  I find it odd that you’re grandstanding when you don’t really care **why** I’m good?”  Steve wasn’t the only one that was pissed.  Apparently, Natasha was choosing ‘fight’ over ‘flight.’_

_“She speaks!” Tony started, “I never used the word good, Romanoff.  I said I didn’t know.  Let me repeat myself…Where’d you learn your skills?  They don’t seem to fit your…stature.”_

_Stark had lit a fire under her.  She looked like she could attack him, so she did – verbally._

_Everyone was silent as Natasha raised her voice a little, “You had Hill pegged as being in the NYPD, huh?  Let me tell you, Stark.  I had you nailed the minute I saw you.  Narcissist.  Chauvinist.  Asshole.”_

_Stark’s ego had been stoked, “You nailed me huh?  Is that an accusation or a wish, Romanoff?”_

_A couple of groans came from the group as Steve now stood up.  Sam spoke first though, “Do yourself a favor Tony and just shut up,” as Rhodey added, “For the love of God shut up.”_

_Natasha looked at Steve with anger in her eyes, matching the heat from the fire as she responded to Tony, “You just made my point for me, Stark.  No, you don’t care about the why.  You only care that you’re not as good as me.”_

_Tony stood now, “No, I care that we’re all trying to pass training to be in the FBI and we’re supposed to trust one another.  So, let me ask you again, Red.  Where the hell did you learn moves and reflexes like that?  You and May looked like a spider and a cat out there today.  And I tend to step on spiders when I see one.”_

_Banner, Loki, and Thor all shook their heads at him.  Bucky muttered, “Jesus Christ” and Wanda said, “Grow up.”_

_Natasha’s eyes weren’t the only ones that reflected anger.  Steve glared at Stark.  Part of it was this natural protective feeling he felt towards her that he couldn’t quite explain.  The bigger part was that Stark was acting like an ass, and Rogers hated bullies.  Steve broke his own silence, “What the hell, Tony?”_

_Natasha shook Steve off as she stood up now and scoffed as she crossed her arms towards Stark, “Service.  Honor.  Trust.  These are words you should learn if you want to be in the FBI, Tony.  You asked how old I was before.  I may be the youngest one here at 22, yet you are the one acting like a child.”_

_Natasha finally took a breath and saw that everyone around the fire was still sitting, looking up at them.  Her face didn’t hide her emotions anymore.  Anger, embarrassment, and that same look of exposure she had on the wrestling mat with May earlier - it was all there as she said, “I’m sorry for ruining the mood, everyone.  I’m pretty tired, so I’m going to go to bed.”_

_She walked away from the fire and a collective assortment of groans came out of the group.  Hill flipped Tony off as Rhodey said, “Sometimes you are such a dick, Tony.”  Stark sat down, still defensive and said, “What, none of you have questions?”_

_Steve walked around the pit and stood over Tony’s side, “It’s day two, Stark.  In the FBI in case you forgot.  This isn’t middle school.  Of course we have questions…about everyone.  I’d say more people are questioning you tonight though.  Let me tell you, you better watch it.”_

_Stark jerked his head around, “Or what, you’re going to beat me up over your little crush, Rogers?”_

_Steve laughed and said louder, “Oh, I wasn’t telling you to watch it from me.  I have a feeling that we all know Romanoff can handle herself just fine.  No, you better watch it, or we’re all going to get front row seats to your ass beating from her.”_

_Head’s nodded and a couple of voices of approval were heard from the group._

_Steve continued, “Look Stark, it’s day one, so you better find a way to cool yourself off and calm your insecurities.  We all have them, and all they are is baggage and weakness out in the field.  It was true in the military, and it’s just as true now.”_

_The men stared at each other as a few seconds passed.  Some common sense apparently started filtering its way into Tony’s thoughts because he finally relented, “Okay, I get it.  I was an ass.  Look, I had questions, and I got defensive, and it spiraled from there.  Yeah Rogers, I get it.”_

_He put his arms up to show a truce to the group.  Steve said goodnight to everyone and walked off as some of the conversation return to normal.  He heard Rhodey say, “Jesus, Tony.  You really need to layoff being a jerk sometimes.”_

_Whatever just happened was done, but Steve could tell it was far from over._

* * *

_Steve was almost back to his dorm as he walked along the sidewalk.  The path was barely lit in the moonlight, and he could still hear the chatter of the group at the campfire he'd just left.  He turned to the South to approach his building as the talking faded._

_Suddenly, he felt a quick tug on his forearm as he was pulled toward the side of the building._

_“What the hell?” Steve said, but he was cut off as Natasha’s small hand went over his mouth as she pulled him closer to her.  They both stood, hidden in the shadows of the building, her with her back against the cool brick and him with his body looming over hers._

_He could barely see her, but he felt her hand drop from his face and could smell the hint of wood and smoke between them._

_Trying to decipher what was going on in that head of hers, he finally caught a glimpse of her eyes.  He searched them with his as he spoke softly to her, “Natasha, what are you doing?”_

_She looked up at him and caught him by surprise with her harsh tone, “You listen to me, Steve.  I don’t need you standing up for me.  I am not some waif that you can protect and save.”_

_Okay – Steve was not this clueless._

_He truly thought a day ago, when they had made their ‘truce’ that they were in a good place…a starting point.  Yes, she was attractive as hell to him (in both spirit and personality), and he had **so** **many** questions, but it only intrigued him more.  Today started off great with her.  The same friendly banter was there from when they first met, but after she'd gotten knocked on her ass (literally) by May during their match, it was like a switch had been flipped.  _

_She took out her frustration from May on him this afternoon, and apparently, she was trying to take out her frustration on him again from Stark being a dickhead._

_“Natasha, I wasn’t trying to protect you.  I just got upset at what was going on…”  He wasn’t able to continue before she cut him off, “I can handle myself, Rogers.  I am not a damsel in distress.”_

_Now he was just getting annoyed.  His concern for her didn't form because she was a woman.  If she took the time to understand his actions before jumping to whatever conclusion she had in her head, she’d know that._

_Steve was concerned because he saw someone acting like a jerk towards another person, undeservedly.  He wasn’t going to stand by and let Tony jerk Natasha around 20 minutes ago.  And he wasn’t going to stand here now, in the shadows, and let her jerk him around either._

_He exhaled and he saw her eyelids close as his breath hit her face, “You know Natasha, in the 48 hours since I’ve met you, you have lied to me, kissed me, competed with me, flirted with me, and now for the last few hours, apparently, you only want to take out all of your frustrations on me.”_

_Before she could say anything more, Natasha was the one who was cutoff this time, “Stark was being an asshole, and I thought we were trying to be friends.  I know I was trying to be yours, and if you still are, you’ll learn that I would never stick up for you only because you’re a woman.”_

_She narrowed her eyes, trying to figure out what he was thinking as he continued, “I stick up for my friends when they need it.  More importantly, I do something when I see something is wrong.  The way you’re acting towards me right now, it’s wrong.  You could stand to be a little nicer to someone that was only concerned about you.  That’s what I was – concerned, both this afternoon and at the fire tonight.”_

_Natasha was floored and didn’t know what to think.  She had never met anyone like Steve Rogers.  And she had met a lot of people in her life.  He was such a contrast to most men, hell to most human beings.  She hadn’t known him long.  But it didn’t take her long to understand that most men…don’t say things like he does.  Most men don’t say and do things because it’s the right thing to do.  This was her life.  This was her understanding of people._

_She turned her head to the side as she released her grip from his arm.  Placing her hands against the cool brick, her brow furrowed as she tried to process everything he was telling her._

_Steve thought that maybe she was going to be angry with him still, but Natasha Romanoff already had a track record of proving him wrong._

_“Today didn’t go the way I thought it would,” she started._

_Their eyes met again.  Even in the dark, he could see the faint pools of green as she stared up at him now.  The fight in her eyes was gone, and her shoulders relaxed as she let out a very large breath that he felt on his neck._

_She spoke, “You know how you’re thrown off your game when something unexpected happens?”_

_A vague question deserves a vague answer.  He didn’t know what she was referring to exactly, but he understood the overall sentiment as he responded, “Sure, I think so…”_

_“Well, you were the first unexpected thing that happened two nights ago,” her lips curved as she placed her right hand flat against his chest.  His breathing picked up as he thought, ‘This is a little less vague,’ before she continued, “I don’t know about you, but I can tell you in my experience, people don’t usually stand up for others so easily.  People don’t usually hate lies like you do.”_

_She looked down for a second before she found his eyes again and whispered, “People aren’t usually good.”_

_She was saying so much but with so little.  What Steve was picking up clearly, was that Natasha wasn’t used to people standing up.  Natasha wasn’t used to good people in her life.  She may have been four years younger than him, but the expression that flashed across her face aged her just then.  He felt a tiny pang in his chest, right under where her hand was._

_She spoke again, “You were unexpected, and you threw me off my game…emotionally.  Today…Agent May threw me off my game, physically.  And tonight, Stark.  Well, he threw me off my game, mentally.  I’m just not used to it.”_

_Steve wasn’t feeling off his game right now._

_That familiar pull from the last two nights was forming inside of him.  It was a game that he wanted to play as he reached down and brushed a stray hair behind her ear.  She closed her eyes and turned her cheek as she sighed into his hand.  This time he could feel the air from her breath on his wrist, and he could also swear that his pulse quickened in that same moment._

_She said quietly, “I’m sorry, Steve…Thank you.”_

_Her explanation of her behavior was all he needed.  He had a feeling those words didn’t come easily to her.  He knew she felt sorry, so she didn’t need to say it.  But the fact that she did…_

_His rough fingers moved across her cheekbone slowly as she asked, “Steve, how is this ever going to work?  You and me being friends.”_

_Natasha felt herself moving before anything else was said._

_Steve pulled her into his embrace and switched places with her.  With his back against the wall now, and the small distance still between them erased, Steve pulled her tight against him, completely out of sight from anyone in their outside world.  She rested her head in the crook of his neck as his hands moved up and down her back, trying to ease all of the worry she had away._

_He couldn’t explain it._

_Connections like this couldn’t be explained.  Especially when they formed this quickly.  That’s what made it so powerful between them.  So, as his hands moved up and down her back, trying to ease the tension out of her, he whispered, “It’s going to be okay, Natasha.  We’ll figure this out.”_

_Natasha could hear his heart beating faster and felt the warmth increase between their bodies.  Losing herself in the hold of his muscular arms, she rested both of her hands on his chest as she exhaled, letting the air dance along his neck where her head was.  He could almost feel the graze of her lips on his skin._

_Figuring this out…_

_Steve let one of his hands slide gently down to her waist as he pushed his fingers into her sweatshirt.  Their bodies were still for several moments, feeling the electricity intensify between them as they listened to each other breathe.  That initial attraction - the spark that started this weird and wild journey two nights ago, didn’t start over last night.  It had only fermented for both of them since night one, brewing a sexual chemistry that quite frankly, neither one had ever felt before in their young existence._

_Natasha felt Steve’s throat move as he swallowed nervously, and she lifted her head off of his shoulder to look up at him.  Again, they were hidden in the shadows, and could barely make out the lines of each other’s faces.  But like flies to honey, they started moving their lips toward one another._

_Steve felt the soft lines of her mouth against his.  Their tentative touch tested the waters, trying to see if that unexplainable pull was still there.  It was more than present.  So, when they felt that connection, a relief washed over both of them that was needed, ever since Natasha had run out of the coffee shop._

_She ran her hands across his chest, grabbing at his sweatshirt and trying to pull him closer.  His fingers dug into her hip.  She needed the pressure, but she wanted to feel the source of it.  Her hand slid down as she laced her fingers within his and squeezed, silently telling him, ‘I want every part of this.’_

_Steve clutched her hand tightly as their fingers intertwined, but he immediately missed the curve of her waist._

_His other hand grabbed her hip as he let out a groan.  She could feel the vibrations of that sound against her lips as it moved from his throat into her mouth, and she could almost feel it trickle down her spine._

_Yeah they’re fucking figuring this out alright._

_Their lips crashed against each other.  They were both seeking relief but only found more craving.  Mouths pressed harder into each other as his hand slid from her waist to the small of her back.  She felt his fingers spread against her spine like a starfish as he pulled her body closer._

_Their entangled fingers tightened as she let out a gasp, trying to seek a little air.  He invaded the opening her search for oxygen created, and found her wet and warm tongue with his.  The gasp was replaced with a whimper._

_A groan, a gasp, and a whimper._

_A conversation of sounds between them said everything that was needed.  The warmth between them increased to a heavy and thick heat as their movements followed._

_Natasha pushed her body against him, pressing his back hard into the wall.  There was no more space to eliminate between them.  It was only a fluid movement of their bodies against each other, pushing and pulling, trying to relieve and increase the tension all at once._

_She pushed her knee in between his, causing him to spread his legs slightly apart.  She slotted her legs around his, straddling his thigh in the process._

_Even though they were both in jeans, he could feel the warmth coming off her thighs, emanating from the heat behind her zipper.  Just the thought of that warmth dripped into his mind, and he had an instant response to his already growing desire._

_She felt his hand move lower down the small of her back until it slipped into the pocket on her jeans.  He used the envelope of fabric as leverage and grabbed her ass, pushing her down harder around his leg as he lifted it against the opposing pressure._

_She pulled back for a second and looked up at his dark eyes in their blackened surroundings.  A moan escaped her as she bit her lower lip, and her chest was heaving heavily beneath him.  She traced her lips timidly with her tongue, staring back at his mouth again._

_Their breathing was rasped against each other as Natasha stared at him, lifting her knee between his thighs.  Meeting the hardened pressure underneath the denim and metal teeth of his zipper that separated them, she watched him as her knee grazed against the base of his pressure._

_His urge grew as he tried to calm himself, letting out a slow and uneven breath._

_His freed hand found the other side of her jeans, as he gripped her ass with both hands now.  His fingers inched up until he found the hem of her sweatshirt.  He traced a line under it and sought out the gap between fabric and skin.  His fingers found the space of freedom and slid them inside, feeling her cotton panties separating her bare ass from her pants.  Now, they were the only thing separating his fingers from her, and any clear thinking dissolved._

_Her skin was warm to his touch as he traced the edges of the cotton fabric.  She felt drunk on lust, wanting to get lost in it.  The hunger inside him deepened, and rational thought was as far away as the stars were above them._

_She slipped her fingers under the hem of his sweatshirt, and she touched the skin on his stomach…just like she had the other night.  They were high with desire from each other’s touch - his hot, bare skin against her fingers and her soft, warm flesh against his._

_She moved her fingers up his sweaty chest as their lips finally found each other’s again.  This time with more need.  He moved his hand under the band of her panties.  His fingers dug into the flesh beneath as he felt her grind down on his thigh as she grazed her knee a little harder against the bulge in his jeans._

_She shoved her tongue into his mouth this time as their wet saliva mixed.  Her fingers brushed over his nipples on his chest, almost putting him into sensory overload as Steve grunted and pulled back from her mouth, “Jesus, Natasha.”_

_She panted, “I know, I feel it too, Steve.”_

_Their stare lingered between them for a second, and then they blinked and turned their heads towards the direction of the fire.  They heard people’s voices become a little louder and knew the group was heading to bed._

_The cooling off began._

_Natasha moved both of her legs now between his and drew her hand out of his sweatshirt.  She placed them on his shoulders and exhaled, calming herself.  Steve moved both of his hands back to cup both sides of her cheeks.  They looked at each other for a moment longer and placed their foreheads together as their breathing settled more._

_Steve felt a little frustration from his arousal.  But honestly, relief also washed over him from their interruption, because this irresistible pull was scaring the hell out of him.  It was scaring the hell out of both of them._

_He whispered as he tilted her chin upward, “This was a nice surprise.  Maybe we should try and move slowly, and get to know each other more…outside of making out in public spaces.  Which by the way, I didn’t know I had an affinity for until I met you, Natasha.”_

_The little levity helped.  She let out a laugh and grinned, “I like the sound of that, Rogers.”_

_He quickly added, “And Natasha, no running away this time.  We’ll figure this out, I promise.” Her grin turned to a genuine smile as she answered, “No running.  I like the sound of that even more, Steve.”_

_He asked, “How about we start tomorrow morning with getting to know each other better.  A morning jog at sunrise and then some coffee and breakfast before training starts?”_

_“Sunrise,” was all that she said as she nodded.  They held each other for a moment longer, and then, as their hands slipped away from each other, they parted ways to retreat to their rooms for the evening._

* * *

 


	5. Tension

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for being so welcoming and taking the time to read this AU crazy fic of mine! I hope you enjoy this chapter and the image board below,
> 
> I love hearing from readers, so let me know your thoughts, or come follow me on Tumblr @eightieskat if you'd like to chat about anything with the story, marvel, or anything else!
> 
> Cheers!~~Kat

Memories & Reality

I do not own any of this or any part of Marvel or the MCU

Chapter 5 – Tension

* * *

**Present Day –**

The overcrowded plane had an hour flight back to New York.  The passengers were forced to sit across from each other on benches along each wall. 

Steve had the best vantage point with his back to the cockpit in a single seat, adjacent to the bench along the east wall.  Loki was cuffed in the corner right next to him and was flanked by Bucky and then Sam. 

Tony and Rhodey were at the back of the plane, on the opposite side, and Maria and Thor sat directly across from Sam and Bucky.  With his eyes hiding behind sunglasses, Steve stared at the other occupants the FBI reluctantly had to accommodate. 

Even though no guns were drawn, Steve thought the tension in the air compared to the feeling of a hold-up.  Everyone looked like a cornered animal to some extent, waiting to pounce at the chance to continue their arguments from before.  The situation was a mess and was bordering on a disaster.  Not a single person on the plane, except for the criminal, could have predicted a few hours ago, that the eight individuals would all be together in a confined space once again. 

The last thing Steve told Loki before boarding was, “You should seriously consider exercising your right to remain silent.”  To his surprise, everyone _was_ actually practicing their right to silence.  But this hushed environment did not provide any peace or calm.  Instead, the air was stiff and thickened with each passing second.

Being around the people in the plane, when they hadn’t been together like this in years, triggered a memory in Steve. 

He thought back to the morning of his first day at the Academy.  That morning in the hotel before they left for training, they were all in the lobby sizing each other up.  The eight individuals were doing the same exact thing on the plane right now, each looking out for their own agency, or their own agenda.  And each person was waiting to see who would speak first.  

A couple minutes passed as the flight took off. 

The passengers were processing the events of the last hour, so silence was to be expected at first.  But then another five minutes passed, and a metaphorical bomb began to loom as time ticked away, threatening to blast heightened emotions all across the cabin.  If their history could prove anything right now, it was that the quiet would not remain much longer.  Too many foxes were in this hen house, and someone was going to show their teeth soon. 

So only one question mattered - who was going to talk first? 

Bucky thought to himself that Loki would be the first to instigate while Sam predicted Tony would start.

 _Another_ five minutes passed, and Maria bounced her knee and started picking at her cuticles nervously.  An old habit that Sam picked up on right away.  Her actions were caused by an annoyance, knowing this land mine was about to go off.  Thor had his elbows on his knees as he rubbed his temples.  Rhodey looked like he was lost in his own thoughts, almost having a conversation with himself.

And then there was Stark. 

Steve hadn’t moved an inch in his seat.  He didn’t flinch once behind his glasses.

But Tony kept his shades on too, mirroring Rogers’s position at the back of the plane.  Steve couldn’t see his eyes, but he knew Stark was concentrating on him. 

They were friends…good friends…a long time ago.  It wasn’t easy then, since they were born with qualities, placing them at natural odds with each other.  Tony’s flash and showmanship, to Rogers’ good nature and subtlety.  Stark’s need for the spotlight and attention, to Steve’s need for authenticity and morals.  Tony’s growing up with money, to Steve’s growing up without. 

That chasm between their differing personalities only grew since separating as FBI team members. 

It was ironic.  The distance separating the two men on the plane right now, echoed the distance in their friendship since Tony joined the CIA.  They were as far away from each other as they could be because the relationship was _non-existent_.

The last five minutes of quiet passed, and it felt like a pressure cooker.  No one had spoken a _single_ word since boarding, but the timer was about to go off.

In total, 17 minutes of silence had ticked away. 

In hindsight, that length of time could be measured as a success in some warped reality.  The fact these strong-willed individuals could even last 17 seconds without talking was surprising. 

Bucky sighed as he saw Loki out of the corner of his eye.  The criminal was grinning ear-to-ear right now, clearly reveling in the brewing madness since his arrest.  Steve’s jaw twitched as he heard Loki’s intake of breath, knowing he was going to make a move and break the silence. 

“If I were a betting man, I would have lost a lot of money today.  I would never have guessed you _imbeciles_ could manage to keep your traps shut for this long,” Loki said.

Seven pairs of eyes snapped toward him as Rogers reached to where he was cuffed.  Grabbing Loki’s thumbs, Steve forced them back toward his wrist.  He spoke so close that his beard almost touched Loki’s face, “You are a smart man, Loki.  You always have been.  So, use that brain of yours and think long and hard before you say anything else.”

Steve released his grip and moved back to his seat, but the spark in Loki’s eye was an indicator to everyone.  He was just getting started, “You really are taking this whole ‘Don’t fuck with Rogers’ trope seriously…Good.  You always needed a little dirt on that crisp and clean moral code of yours.  Tell me, Cap…when did you start smudging your persona exactly?”

Bucky clenched his fist as Loki turned his head towards him, “Oh Barnes, always looking out for your dear brother.  What a good little boy you are.  Tell me, how is that _little_ _boy_ of yours?”

Loki was talking out of his ass, with the sole purpose of antagonizing anyone within range of his words or eyesight.  Everyone knew that, but it didn’t matter when an individual’s emotional temperature was reaching a boiling point. 

The mention of someone’s loved one by Loki, especially a child, eliminated any chance of calming the atmosphere.  It didn’t matter to Barnes that it was an empty statement.   

A flash of rage filled Bucky for a moment before he lunged at him.

Sam held him back and forced him to change seats with him, whispering to his friend, “Bucky, don’t.  You have to keep your cool for another half hour.  This is exactly what he wants.”  Sam nudged his head towards the back of the plane, indicating a reminder of what Fury had told them – to play in the same sandbox with everyone on the plane, but not to trust them.

Loki laughed, “What Sammy, you don’t think they can hear you?”

Peeking his head around Wilson to look at Stark and Rhodey, and then Thor and Hill, Loki mocked, “I mean if they can’t hear something ten feet away from them, I seriously question the competence of this country’s government officials.”  After a couple of seconds, Loki grinned at the glaring daggers around him, “Oh I think they can hear me just fine.  What a relief.  My faith in democracy is restored.”

Stark spoke next, “You’ll be lucky to have any faith left in your ability to breathe by the time I’m through with you, Loki.  15 minutes, that’s all I’ll need.”

Quiet time had officially expired.

Bucky turned and raised his voice, “Always so tough, Stark.  It’s easy to act that way when you work in the shadows of the CIA, avoiding the real fight.” 

Hill tried to step in, but Sam cut her off, “Cut the diplomatic act, Maria.  I know you’re still trying to work on a way to get Loki in your custody at Homeland.  You’re not fooling anyone.”

“Okay, Sam.  I was trying to be the level headed one here,” Maria answered as Thor spoke over them, “Loki is clearly trying to get under your skin.  Maybe if the FBI learned to play well with others like the NSA and Homeland do when it’s needed, this wouldn’t be so hard for you.”

Rhodey jumped in, “Thor, that’s about the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard you say.  And I’ve heard my fair share of dumb shit from your mouth over the years.  The NSA is out for their own blood just like all of us.” 

Truer words couldn’t have been spoken, but the plane erupted anyway with displaced anger.

Claims were flung at each other like mud off of a tire, going in all different directions.  Rhodey called Sam a G-Man.  Sam accused Maria of being a political suck-up, caring more about her job title than crime.  Thor yelled, “Lackey” at Barnes. 

Rhodes and Stark had insults tossed their way from everyone - ghost, spook, and ‘black-site assholes’ to name a few.

“Why don’t you stop by one of our black-sites and see if you can make it a day, Barnes,” Stark dared.

Everyone was yelling _except_ for Steve. 

He stayed out of it at first, but as always, Tony crawled under his skin.

He cocked his head towards Stark, “Always such a tough man when you can hide behind words, Stark.  You can think what you want about the FBI having rules and order.  But the truth is you’ve been cutting corners and playing by your own rules your entire life.  That’s only been amplified in the CIA.  I want you to think about that, _Tony._ Do you really feel good about the questionable tactics you’ve performed since becoming a spook?”

Stark took off his sunglasses and stepped towards Steve, “Just as righteous as you always were Rogers, hiding behind that FBI badge.  Don’t talk to me about questionable actions.  My tactics are minor stretches of the imagination unlike some people…” 

Steve face turned red as he stood up, “Why don’t you try me, Stark.  Keep talking, and we’ll see who’s hiding in a few minutes?” 

The silence from before was replaced by everyone trying to one-up the last insult by screaming over one another. 

Loki narrowed his eyes, “Look at you.  A little nudge, and you pull each other apart like cotton candy…Pathetic.  I must say, this is not the family reunion I expected…it’s _so_ much better.” 

The shouting stopped as all eyes glared directly at the reason they were there in the first place.  They weren’t just dealing with a criminal or their government agencies right now.  They were dealing with a shit ton of baggage from their past.  They all seemed to realize nothing was going to get accomplished by highlighting that baggage right now. 

“Jesus Christ,” Bucky muttered… “15 minutes,” Tony whispered to Rhodey as they returned to their seats.  Silence returned to the cabin as everyone took stock of what just happened.  Steve pinched the bridge of his nose as he buckled back into his seat and looked at his watch, thinking to himself, ‘ _Great, 20 minutes left still.’_

Seven former team members, four government agencies, and Loki – what a mixed bag.  They had boarded the plane ramped up with emotional dynamite, and Loki was thrilled to light the fuse.

* * *

**_12 Years Ago –_ **

_Steve Rogers could blame many things for his struggles with sleeping._

_Recollections of being a sickly child coughing and wheezing through the night unsettled him at times, no matter how healthy he was now.  Memories from his toddler years would flash at times as he remembered his abusive father, causing his head to stir in the dark.  And every time he thought of those years, Steve felt more pain from remembering his mother and Bucky being hurt, than himself.  Traumatic and macabre images were seared in his brain from Afghanistan and from war, occasionally causing night terrors.  A therapist told Steve that he suffered from mild PTSD.  Bucky did as well, but what else was new to anyone who had an early childhood like theirs and had been through war?_

_Regardless of those memories, Steve learned how to deal with each ordeal.  He was blessed to have his health turn around as it did when his age reached double digits, and he learned to live a very healthy and fit lifestyle because of it, not wasting the blessing.  A driving force to protect and to stand up for people formed early on inside of him because he remembered when he couldn’t defend himself and his loved ones.  He and Bucky were raised by their loving and devoted mother Sarah, who helped them deal and grow from the suffering instilled from his father.  He and Bucky saved each other growing up, always being there for each other.  And they saved each other’s asses in the military too, along with countless missions, troops, and citizens of other countries, which only helped the security of their own country.  So, having a side effect of a random bad dream was worth it, because they had helped a greater cause in their minds._

_When Steve woke up this morning, his restlessness was not caused by any of the common culprits._

_‘Sunrise.’  That was the last thing Natasha said to Steve the night before when they agreed to meet at dawn for a run.  It was 3:00 am now._

_So, no. None of his past sufferings forced his eyes open at this moment._

_He laid awake because of anticipation.  He laid awake because of arousing images of lips, skin, and bodies against a brick wall last night.  He laid awake because of how good it felt to feel…whatever **this** was - something he’d never felt before.  _

_He laid awake because of Natasha Romanoff._

_Steve looked over at Sam and Bucky to see they were out cold, and he decided he couldn’t stay in bed any longer.  He reached over to the nightstand and drank some water.  He stood up, put his sweatshirt and pants on, and left his room.  Needing some fresh air, he decided to go for a walk outside._

_He walked up the hill in between the two housing units and sat down on the grass.  Staring up at the stars with the moon bright overhead, he heard the snap of a stick behind him.  When he turned around, he saw the woman that caused him to be awake at this hour, standing only a few feet from him._

_Natasha came closer and sat near him on the grass but kept a safe distance, “And here I was thinking that you were maybe more of a night owl than an early riser, Rogers.”_

_“Sometimes I don’t sleep the best…especially when I have a lot on my mind,” Steve smiled at her._

_She hummed in a response and drew her legs up as she rested her chin on her knees, “Yeah, I didn’t sleep much either.”  She could feel his eyes on her as she looked out into the night sky.  That similar tension started to return in the air and space between them._

_They spoke simultaneously, “Steve, I think,” and “Natasha, we need.”_

_A pause stirred in the silence before she looked over at him and they both let out a nervous laugh.  She said, “You first, Soldier.”  Steve’s hand scrubbed over his smooth jawline as he blew out a breath, “You’re feeling this too, right Natasha?”  With her legs tucked, and her head tilted towards him, she simply shook her head in agreement._

_There were moments from the previous day, when she was arguing with Stark or fighting with May (or himself), that Steve thought Natasha looked older than her age of 22.  Like whatever was in her head had weathered her well beyond her physical years.  But right now, in the moonlight with her luminous gaze, at a time in between night and morning, and when the outside noise was stripped down to just the two of them, he couldn’t help notice how incredibly young she looked._

_Their eyes met again._

_Steve’s anticipation and restlessness created conflicting feelings, “Look Natasha, we’re adults, and we are in the FBI training program.  This is too important to jeopardize…for both of us.”_

_He could tell when they spoke at the same time a moment ago that she was going to say something similar to him because a little relief came across her face.  But he wanted to be open and honest with her – at least as much as he could without scaring either one of them with the intensity of his feelings._

_He said, “But, I want you to know whatever is going on between us, is also too important to jeopardize.  I know that sounds kind of crazy since we met a just few days ago….”_

_A look of surprise came across her face, followed by a blush causing her to look down at the ground.  He told her what he was thinking.  Now the ball was in her court.  He could tell she was struggling with what to say right now, and a little voice of panic started running through his head. ‘Maybe she doesn’t feel the same way, and she was coming out here to tell me to stay the hell away from her.’_

_“I don’t know what you want from me, Steve.  I didn’t come here for fun or to meet people.  I came here to join the FBI, so I agree…the focus should stay on our training.  It’s too important to jeopardize.”_

_Okay that’s not the entirety of the point he was trying to make.  Part of it yes, but he was really just trying to tell both of them to cool down a little._

_“Natasha, that’s not **all** I was trying to say,” Steve started but she shook her head and said, “Let me finish.”  She lifted her head and turned toward him.  He could tell she was nervous.  _

_She crossed her legs and finally looked in his eyes again, breathing uneasily, “Steve, I didn’t plan or expect any of this…I know you didn’t either.  I’m not used to the unexpected.”  Steve scooted closer to her, “Believe me Natasha, with as big of a control freak as I am, I am not used to it either.  The physical attraction is obviously there between us.”_

_“Obviously, huh?” Natasha grinned, “And here I thought you didn’t have a big ego.”_

_Steve laughed quietly, and the ease between them settled back in, “I don’t have an ego, but I’m not dead.  And I don’t think I’m wrong with what I just said either.”  Not knowing where he was going with this, she smirked, “You don’t think you’re wrong that I’m attracted to you, huh?  Okay, I’ll take the bait.  Yeah, you’re pretty easy on the eyes, Rogers…so, what do you want?”_

_Another laugh, but this one was erring on the side of worry.  His words weren’t coming out right.  “Romanoff, I’m not fishing for compliments.  And I’m not looking for us to hook-up.  I mean, not just hook-up…”_

_Natasha reached over and grabbed his hand, giving a gentle squeeze, “Steve, I was teasing.  I think it’s safe to say that yeah…there’s a **strong** physical attraction between us.”  He let out a frustrated breath as he looked down at their hands.  _

_A second passed.  Rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand, he said, “Let me try this again.  As obvious as all of that may be, it’s not what I care about.  There is obviously something else…a connection between us.  And as much as the thought of us kissing in public helped keep me awake the last three nights, the thought of getting to know **you** more is much more exciting.”_

_She chewed on her lip as she stared at their joined hands, “You might not like what you find, Steve…Who do you want me to be?”_

_Squeezing her hand a little harder, he answered, “How about a friend?”_

_She locked eyes with him as he continued, “Natasha, we just need to get used to being around each other.  The physical stuff could be an un-needed distraction during training, but it’s not like we can join separate programs.  I meant it the other day, and I mean it now.  I want us to try and be friends.”_

_“I’m not the best at making friends, Steve.” Natasha said._

_Honestly, he wasn’t surprised with her answer.  The way she had snapped at him yesterday when he tried to help her multiple times had ‘independent’ and ‘please do not disturb’ written all over her actions.  But the way she said it now sounded so flat - like it was a fact.  His brow creased as the same concern he had for her yesterday returned._

_He didn’t want to argue, and he didn’t want the conversation to go sour, so he joked, “Well before three days ago, I didn’t think I would be any good at PDA, but look at how well that turned out.”_

_She snapped out of her thoughts and laughed as he continued, “Look, I think we can show a little self-control, right?  I can do it if you can, no matter how ‘easy on the eyes’ I am…”  He winked at her, trying to keep it light._

_She hesitated before adding, “And if all else fails, what…Cold showers? Daily ice baths?”  He smiled, “You know, I hear those can be relaxing…I think it’s worth it to try.  Being friends that is.”_

_She smiled and pulled her hand away, nervously picking some blades of grass from ground, “I think I like the sound of that, Steve…So, we start with morning runs together?”_

_She wasn’t running or retreating like she had the first night.  She told him last night she wasn’t going to, but she was reaffirming the sentiment now, which caused relief to flow through him._

_“Yeah, Natasha, morning runs, or extra training sessions.  We can help each other in the academic’s area here.  I can help you in weapons assembly.”_

_She grinned as she cut him off, “You assume I need help, Rogers?  Don’t you mean you could learn something from me?”_

_Steve laughed, “I think we can learn from each other…How about every morning at 5:00 am we trade off and on with the sessions.  One day a run, the next would be tactical, the next weapons, the next academics, and so on.”_

_She nodded in agreement, “And if we want to join up together for an evening jog, then so be it.”_

_Steve added, “And whatever else comes in between, we’ll figure it out, together.”_

_“Together”, Natasha repeated._

_The tension was still there, but a comforting familiarity started to form between them too._

_They broke into a more normal conversation and started laughing at something Bucky had joked about the night before.  They guessed who would excel in the academic sessions starting later today as they both said “Maximoff” and laughed.  They didn’t touch each other again for the remainder of their early morning, but somehow, they were closer to each other than before._

_As the sun rose around 5:00 am, Steve looked at his watch and said, “Time for our run, Natasha.”  He paused for a second and smiled, “Are you sure about this?”_

_She answered, “Sure, it’ll be fun.”_

* * *

_A month had passed at Quantico._

_Steve and Natasha’s plan to spend more time with one another worked seemingly well during that month.  Their days started with their 5:00 am runs and practice sessions.  Steve did help her with weapons, and she helped him improve in boxing.  Without mentioning it, they stayed away from the combat sessions at first.  They knew they’d find themselves in compromising positions, and they really were trying to form a friendship._

_A friendship **was** forming.  They started eating together every morning, noon, and night – sometimes with the group and sometimes on their own.  They gravitated toward each other at other times, by sitting together in a classroom, going on nightly walks and runs, and partnering up whenever the situation allowed.  _

_Besides spending a large amount of time together, Steve and Natasha started bonding outside of training.  Inside jokes developed.  Their flirtatious tone was constant.  But there were other things too._

_Natasha saw a couple of tattoos on his muscular arms while boxing, and Steve caught a glimpse of a scar on her clavicle along the left side.  Steve wasn’t a picky eater but preferred a meat and potatoes diet if he had a choice.  Her taste buds were more expansive, favoring spices, sweets, and vodka.  She loved playing games as much as he did which only funneled their competitiveness outside of training._

_He started calling her ‘Nat’ at times.  She **really** liked to call him ‘Soldier’ when she was in a joking mood.  She learned about his hobby of drawing when she saw smudges on his hand and cheek one morning for their 5:00 am training.  He dismissed it at first, “It’s nothing really.  It’s just something that keeps my mind busy sometimes.”  She raised her eyebrow and was intrigued, but left it at that.  _

_He started to realize how **much** she loved to tease him in general._

_“All those big and sweaty muscles with no flexibility…It’s like you want me to trap you.” She would often tell him in some variation while boxing.  He was strong, but she was quick and agile, often able to dance away from his advances in the ring._

_He gave as good as he got though as Natasha realized almost immediately something that Bucky had known since they were kids._

_She learned that Steve Rogers, as upstanding and as good of a person as he was, was really a man from Brooklyn at heart.  And he had the attitude at times to prove it.  In short, he could be a little shit when he wanted to with his smirks, come-backs, and teasing remarks towards her._

_“Maybe I do want you to trap me, Nat.  What are you gonna do about it?” was a favorite response of his._

_The first time he said it, she felt a heat spread from her spine, straight to her stomach, and then to her cheeks.  The blush was hidden by her already red and sweaty face, but still.  She called their session early that morning and went to find the solution of a cold shower quickly.  The cold water wasn’t relaxing like Steve had joked, but it was effective._

_On a deeper level though, Steve started to trust Natasha as the month wore on.  He opened up about some darker and serious memories during their quieter times together.  On a walk two weeks ago, he told her about his abusive father, and how he feels guilty, on some level to this day, that he couldn’t protect his mom and Bucky._

_And he also feels like it was a blessing in disguise when, “The bastard,” passed away from liver failure when he and Bucky were seven.  She didn’t say anything when he told her.  But she did hold his hand with an understanding that he didn’t ask about, and she didn’t elaborate on._

_Steve confided in her by talking about his struggles he still deals with, from his time overseas in Afghanistan.  He and Bucky shared these memories and struggles, but hardly ever discussed them anymore.  So it surprised him, when he thought about what opening up to her meant – that he really trusted her.  But what was even more surprising, was that he didn’t think about the meaning hardly at all.  The trust, the friendship, the time spent together – it all felt natural and organic and easy.  Like what they said was actually true – they just needed to spend more time together to get used to their connection._

_Natasha on the other hand was…Well, she was private._

**_Much_ ** _more private than Steve even was.  He didn’t mind though.  Or at least he told himself that he wasn’t bothered.  He was so engrossed in spending time with her and creating memories in the here and now, that he didn’t try to dwell on not knowing much about her past._

_He soaked up any crumb of information she gave him and tried to be patient.  He could tell she had dancing in her background from her gracefulness, lean muscles, and flexibility in the boxing ring.  A couple of cold showers were definitely needed on Steve’s part as well over the last month when his mind wandered towards those flexible and lean muscles._

_Yes, the cold showers were definitely effective._

_But he also found that she was incredibly smart and gifted in so many of the areas they were being trained on.  Noticing those talents instead of being told by Natasha, made Steve think back to Stark’s argument with her that first night around the fire._

_‘What’s your story?’ Stark had asked._

_Steve never pressed Natasha for more information though.  He could be patient.  He **would** be patient with her because he knew she’d tell him more when she was ready. _

_He wasn’t infallible though._

_Some occurrences began etching away at his patience.  She made vague references about not being able to trust people easily and about feeling alone in the world as a child._

_When Steve made a comment a few days ago about not having a father, she said, “Just be thankful you and Bucky have a mother who loves you enough to make up for the sins of the past.”_

_Natasha had been staring at the moon when she said it.  He didn’t ask because it was like she was in a different world, and it slipped out.  He knew the words conveyed **a lot** more than what they physically spelled out.  He had a hunch that abuse, or bad parents, or something dark had infected her childhood as well, but he didn’t want to pressure her.  Instead, he reached down and held her hand with an understanding, just as she had a couple weeks before with him.  _

_Natasha let a few other puzzle pieces escape, making Steve wonder.  She would bring up his and Bucky’s childhood friends, or ones from the military that he often talked about, and comment how lucky he was to have that type of companionship.  She referenced how he was so likeable and how everyone here gravitated toward him.  Natasha started hanging out with everyone more in the group and had even become ‘friendly’ with Maria, Wanda, Bucky, and Sam, but he guessed that friendships were not common in her life._

_She also stated a couple of times how family was really important.  He would talk about his mother or Bucky a lot.  But when she mentioned ‘family,’ it seemed like there was nothing but that in her life.  Maybe he was reaching, but it was difficult when he had so little information to go on._

_The last thing that he started to pick up on was something that **only** he noticed.  If someone else had noticed like Stark, she would have been relentlessly asked about it.  _

_It only happened a few times.  But when Natasha got really frustrated, upset, or competitive with him, Steve heard what almost appeared to be a faint accent.  A few of her R’s rolled in these more heated times.  A couple of vowels were drawn out in an elongated drawl.  And once…one-time last week, when Steve jabbed her shoulder unsuspectingly in the ring, he swore he heard a single word in a foreign language.  It was under her breath and in a low tone as she was walking away from him.  But if his life depended on it, he thought she probably swore at him in Russian._

_Again, he didn’t ask about it, but it all made him wonder.  He did trust her.  He **did** …he just wished she trusted him more.  Steve was a two-dimensional puzzle that Natasha was gathering pieces to over their first month.  Slowly, she was learning the big picture of who Steven Grant Rogers was as a person. _

_Natasha though…she was a three-dimensional chess board with constant moving pieces.  Every piece of information that Steve gathered, he salivated over, chewed up, and committed to permanent memory._

_But every new piece created five more questions.  For example, take the word he heard her say under her breath a few days ago.  He would bet his life savings it was Russian.  ‘When did she learn Russian?  In high school?  Why did she learn it?  Did she study overseas?  Were her parents from there?’  And the spiral continued._

_Where Steve gave Natasha information willingly about himself, he only found information about her through deductive reasoning, vague statements, observational skills, or slip-ups.  Real information.  Not surface level details like hobbies or food, or favorite colors.  Details and memories that formed who you were as a person.  He had to find all of the real pieces out on his own, and he wasn’t even sure if the things he thought he figured out were accurate._

_It was intriguing, intoxicating, encompassing of his thoughts, and was beginning to become frustrating.  What else was becoming increasingly frustrating was the notion that the ‘friendship’ could be the end all and be all for them.  While they both agreed to try to build their friendship for now, to avoid distractions while in training, the thoughts of their make-out sessions lingered, and only distracted them more._

_Flirting banter, quips and comebacks, and lingering stares they would catch each other in throughout the day.  All of it caused the tension to rise.  And anytime they accidentally grazed the other’s skin, the same electricity was there, but it was more intense because they were actively trying to deprive themselves._

_The increased closeness of the pair and intense gazes did **not** go unnoticed by the rest of the group.  _

_“I swear you can hear their thoughts out loud sometimes,” Wanda would often say.  “I am not an innocent girl by any means, but even I blush when I see the way Rogers looks at Romanoff,” Maria would comment._

_The men usually saved their banter for when they were alone with Rogers, as seldom as it was anymore.  “Get a room, man.” Rhodey, Loki, and Thor would often say if they overheard them flirting.  Bruce would look embarrassed and not say anything.  Tony had made amends for his behavior at the fire for the most part over the first month, but it didn’t stop him from telling Steve, “Make sure you prepare for the fireworks that are going to go off with Red, Rogers.  I don’t know if you can handle that.”_

_Steve and Natasha tried to laugh them all off, but beneath their appearance of being in control, they both felt the exact things their friends were saying._

_Sam was becoming closer as a roommate to Steve and Bucky, so they both caught on to Steve’s frustration in the past couple of weeks.  At first, they joked like the others about Steve and Natasha just needing to break their ‘sexual damn’ already.  But Bucky could tell most recently, Steve’s frustration ran deeper than just the attraction to Romanoff._

* * *

_As a reward for successfully completing the first month at the Academy, Fury gave the trainees a night off where they could go out, off campus.  The men and women in the group of 11 had agreed to separate for the night.  Natasha and Steve had talked about skipping it to hang out on campus with each other, but they caved to the pressure of their friends and decided to part ways for the evening._

_Bucky, Sam, and Steve were getting ready in their room when Sam spoke, “You ever think Romanoff is a master of deflection?”  Steve immediately became defensive.  He threw his towel on the floor and answered, “What is that supposed to mean?”_

_Sam and Bucky recently had a conversation about this exact question, and the source of Steve’s rising frustration and wearing patience.  But Bucky knew his brother well enough to know that it was one thing for Steve to be having these thoughts poke holes in his built-up idea of Natasha.  He could stay in denial about that.  It was quite another for his friend and his brother to bring it up.  That meant whatever doubt or concern he was feeling, was noticeable to others too, and it meant it was **real**.  _

_Bucky asked Steve a couple nights ago when they found a rare moment when it was just the two of them, if everything was alright.  He was noticeably lost in his thoughts, so, Steve didn’t answer at first, and then just nodded before changing the subject.  What Bucky didn’t know, was that it was the same day that Steve thought he overheard Natasha say a word in Russian._

_Bucky could tell then that something was bothering his brother, and it had only increased now.  He stepped in and waived Sam off, “Look Steve, I know I’ve asked before, and you just say she’s private.  But come on.  You and I know a line of bullshit when we see it.  And I am calling bullshit on that.  I mean, I can be private…”_

_Steve had calmed down and laughed, “Buck, you’re about as private as a nudist colony.”_

_That had calmed the mood and all three men started laughing.  Bucky grinned, “See that’s what I’m talking about.  You just called bullshit on me.  You’re right.  I’m not private.  But you on the other hand…you tend to hold your cards close to the vest.  But I bet Romanoff knows about our childhood and how we became brothers.  I bet she knows about Mom and that she’s a nurse.  Fuck Steve, I bet she knows a thousand things about you.  What do you really know about her?”_

_Bucky knew that he was about the only person who could get away with what he was doing while Steve would stay put and listen.  It wasn’t Bucky’s first attempt at this conversation, but it was the most direct approach.  Sam knew he could stay and neither Bucky or Steve would be upset.  He had the same concerns as Bucky did, but he knew this discussion should be between them as he waived and said “See you downstairs in a bit,” and he stepped out of their room._

_Steve narrowed his eyes at his brother, “Buck, you and I have learned by now that all of that type of information is just demographic and superficial.  Knowing someone’s mother’s occupation doesn’t matter.”_

_Bucky sat down and stretched his legs out in front of his chair and crossed his arms behind his head, looking like he had zero fucks to give.  This conversation was happening, and Steve wasn’t getting away with this BS with him anymore.  They’d been here a month, and sure…they saw each other and spoke every day, countless times.  But they hadn’t had a real moment like this since before they came to Quantico.  As big of a punk as Steve could be, Bucky could equal the level in being a jerk right back to him.  It’s how they always interacted and called each other out when needed._

_Bucky was calling Steve out._

_“Steve, that sentence is about as twisted as the logic behind it.  I am not talking about you not knowing Natasha’s parent’s jobs.  It was a metaphor.”_

_“Don’t use words that you don’t know the meaning to, Buck,” Steve said as he gave a slight smile.  Their arguments always went this way.  Serious, but full of jabs.  They loved each other and knew how to get through to one another.  They could push each other’s buttons without tempers being lost, unlike with other people._

_Bucky faked being offended and scoffed, “Hey man, I know what the word ‘logic’ means.”_

_They knew Steve was referencing the word metaphor, which was a jab in itself, but it did the trick, and they relaxed.  Steve sat on his twin bed and looked as his brother continued._

_“You know what I’m talking about.  So, you can be in denial because you have the hots for Romanoff.  I get it.  You guys have this weird connection, and you just click.  What do the old folks call it...Kismet?  But Steve, it’s me.  I wasn’t referring to superficial details.  I was referring to how you are convincing yourself that this is all normal and she’s just ‘private,’ and you’re going to be patient until she opens up.  I think we both know that she is not the type of person to open up, and that is what is frustrating you.  You trust her, but why doesn’t she trust you enough to tell you more than what she likes to eat?”_

_Steve’s head hung between his slumped shoulders.  He huffed out a breath and said, “Buck…everything you’ve said, yeah…I’ve thought about it.  And yeah, I do get frustrated.  Is that what you want to hear?”_

_Bucky was still sprawled out in his chair.  He wasn’t going to give Steve that easy of an out.  He raised both eyebrows, silently telling him, ‘Go on…’_

_“Oh my God, how did Mom make it with the two of us as kids…you’re as stubborn as me, do you know that, Buck?”  Bucky just grinned as Steve continued, “Yeah, I have questions…and concerns.  And it’s frustrating, but what I can tell you is that the answers to those question, whatever they are, aren’t going to change how I feel.  Those answers won’t tell me what type of woman she is.  My experiences with her do that.  She will tell me on her terms, when she wants to, but I’m not going to pressure her.”_

_Bucky wanted to say, ‘Bullshit’ again.  He didn’t.  He smacked his hands on his knees and stood up to finish getting ready.  He put on his deodorant and cologne and said, “You sure you’re not afraid of what she might say if you do actually pressure her?”_

_Bucky was checking his teeth in the mirror as he heard Steve let out another irritated sigh as he continued, “Hey, I like Natasha.  I really do, Steve.  And, I know if I’m ever going on a mission with someone in the future, I would want her with me because damn, she can kick some serious ass.  And I won’t even get started on how much I loved the ego check she gave Stark on night one…everyone did.”_

_Steve smiled at him and let out a laugh as Bucky finished, “But look, all I’m saying is before you go completely off the deep end with this girl…if you haven’t already…you should be able to know a few basic things about her.  You’re my brother, and I’m just trying to have your back.”_

_Steve stood up to finish getting dressed, “I want to know all of the answers to my questions about Nat and her life, but she has to have her reasons for the privacy, and right now I respect that.  I appreciate the concern Buck, but I trust her, okay?”_

_Bucky relented and put his hands up.  He may have been telling himself silently still, ‘Bullshit, Rogers.’  But he dropped it.  He said his peace and trusted his brother, “Okay then, whatever you say.  Just know, I’ve always got your back, Steve.”  Bucky smacked his brother on the shoulders and wiggled his eyebrows, “Now let’s go have some fun.  We’ve earned it.”_

_Steve nodded at Bucky as they left their room to go downstairs and meet everyone else for their night out._

* * *

_Steve and Bucky met up with the other men outside to wait for their cab.  They started joking about who was going to be the first person to strike out with a girl (Bucky, because he was relentless) and who would be the first to pass out for the night (Either Banner because he appeared to be a light weight or Stark because he seemed like the type to over indulge.)_

_The women found their way down to wait for their separate cab as well.  Steve caught a glimpse of Natasha from the corner of his eye as she approached with Wanda and Maria._

_His breathing hitched as he gave her appearance a scan from head to toe.  None of the group had been particularly dressed up because no one had packed any fancy clothes for training, but it did not stop Steve from thinking Natasha looked stunning.  She wore a pair of tight black jeans that might as well have been painted on her legs with her black high heels and a V-neck, dark grey sweater._

_It wasn’t revealing, but Steve immediately started thinking of what was underneath.  He’d caught a hint of her chest a couple of times in the boxing ring, and the images stirred in him, causing a warmth to creep up his neck.  Her hair was down in tamed red waves, and he thought about the times when his hands were running through it.  His throat felt tight as he swallowed nervously._

_Steve had never really seen Natasha in make-up, so he noticed immediately how the hints of gold and purple caused her eyes to pop.  And how her red lipstick made her lips look even more luscious than usual.  He wanted to take her plump lower lip into his mouth and suck.  He could almost hear her moan._

_She stepped over to him as he separated from the men.  She could tell he approved of her appearance.  Her mind was right there in the gutter with his.  Steve already knew how much Natasha loved to tease him.  So, when she reached down to brush her fingertips over his hand, she whispered, “Cat got your tongue?  You don’t look bad yourself, Rogers.”_

_Steve grasped onto her fingers his with his large hand and felt a little better about his intense reaction when he saw her cheeks blush.  They were on a level playing field now._

_Steve was wearing black dress shoes with dark jeans that hugged his ass and thighs, and everything else that she remembered being pressed against the wall a month ago.  She looked up to see he was wearing a black Henley shirt with three buttons.  The top two were undone, revealing a glimpse of his beefy chest muscles.  It didn’t matter that she had seen flashes of his stomach and skin plenty of times in the ring when he’d wipe his face with his shirt.  Right now, all she could do was think about running her tongue along the exposed flesh._

_Her blush deepened, and she felt her mouth start to water.  She looked at the blue escaping from his eyes as he smirked at her.  Here stare shifted when she saw a hint of silver around his neck._

_Steve saw the question behind her eyes, and he pulled out his old army tags.  She let go of his hand and reached up to feel them as her nails grazed his neck.  They locked eyes and both exhaled as she said, “I haven’t seen these before.”  He grinned, “I don’t have any fancy jewelry or gold chains like Stark over there.”_

_Natasha imagined the metal touching her skin with his large frame hovering over her.  She tried to smack herself back to reality as she spoke to herself, ‘Oh my God Romanoff, get a grip.’_

_They looked at their friends to find nine pairs of eyes staring at them, hearing Bucky make a joke to Sam, “Kismet” and Maria and Wanda say something about, “Eye sex.”_

_Natasha let out a nervous laugh and said, “I wish we were going out together tonight, Steve.”_

_Steve knew he was going to get crap for this for the rest of the evening.  But he stepped forward and let his hand reach for hers again, “Me too, Nat.  Hey, you be careful tonight…You look too good to not have guys hitting on you.”_

_She raised an eyebrow at him, “You’re not the jealous type are you, Rogers?  You know, I could say the same thing to you.  I don’t want to hear about you looking at any other girls tonight.  You’re going to get a lot of attention with how your arms look in that shirt.”_

_Feeling flushed, Steve heard Bucky cough loudly and Stark groan, “Good God.”_

_Wanda finally came over to link her arm in Natasha’s.  She smiled at Steve and said, “Okay kids, time to detox and peel away for the night…Our cab is here and the fare is ticking.  Wanda and Maria waved their hands at Natasha, faking an attempt at cooling her off while Steve was met with a chorus of razzing from the men._

_They smiled one more time at each other as they went off in separate cabs for the evening._

 

* * *

 


	6. Questioning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really appreciate the interest and people continuing to follow this slowww burn of a story. 
> 
> The entire story is mapped out in my outline. While a lot of the first chapters developed characters and back story, and set up the timelines and focused on world building, the next set of chapters are going to start ramping up with more reveals, plot, and that heavy angst part of the story line. 
> 
> Our first ‘new’ character appears in this one below 😊.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter and the image board below. I love hearing from readers, so let me know your thoughts, or come follow me on Tumblr @ eightieskat if you'd like to chat about anything with the story, marvel, or anything else!
> 
> Cheers!~~Kat

Memories & Reality

I do not own any of this or any part of Marvel or the MCU

Chapter 6 – Questioning

* * *

**Present Day –**

The plane touched down back in New York a little over an hour after the flight began.   

After they arrived back at HQ, Loki was ushered into the building.  The criminal had a smug grin on display for the entire flight, and as Steve escorted him through the hallways, he had the same smug grin on his face now.  He seemed to feed off of the FBI agents staring at him as Rogers placed him in the interrogation room and shackled him to the table. 

Steve felt a moment of relief after he shut the interrogation room door.  Finally having a little space, he thought, ‘Let the asshole talk himself mute.  I don’t have to listen right now.’

But his relief was short lived.

If the plane felt overcrowded with eight strong personalities, then the conference room was suffocating as Steve joined everyone along with Wanda and Bruce. 

‘The right to remain silent,’ rang through Rogers’ head again right now because he could have heard a pin drop from how quiet it was.  Everyone was still walking on egg shells due to the pissing contests they _all_ were guilty of during the flight.  Their hard feelings may have been exposed on the plane, but that exposure only uncovered what had been forming for years. 

The four government agencies via the proxies in the room, were about to hash out a discussion about next steps – aka, what the fucking hell was going on and what were they going to do?

The conference room was surrounded by glass walls that looked out into the command center.  The large table accommodated all of the agents who sat at it, but it was literally split down the middle.  A dividing line was almost visible with FBI agents on one side as Steve joined his team (Bruce, Wanda, Bucky, and Sam), and the non-Bureau employees on the other (Tony, Rhodey, Thor, and Maria). 

Stark broke the silence by slowly tapping his pen on the table, trying to get a rise out of Steve as he watched him take his seat.  He’d have to wait though, because the Assistant Director was approaching.    

Fury looked through the glass windows of the room.  He saw the glares and un-spoken hostility between everyone.  This was going to be worse than his Academy days teaching them.  At least _then_ , he was working with a clean slate.  Now, his current and former team knew what stubborn assholes they could all be and what buttons to push. 

Fury knew this was going to be anything but easy.  Unfortunately, his intuition was usually right.  “Mother fucker…this is going to be a long day,” he whispered to himself, sighing heavily as he entered the room. 

Placing his palms on the head of the table, Fury leaned over and looked at the rag tag group facing off in heated stares before him, “Alright everyone let’s get one thing straight here.  I know there’s no love lost between the agencies you work for.  Just like I know that there is plenty of bad blood to go around in this room.  But quite frankly I don’t give a damn.”

His voice beat through the air like a bludgeon, and it worked to garner attention as all pairs of eyes turned to him.   

He continued, “Yeah, you heard me.  I didn’t care about any of your baggage when you all started at Quantico.  I didn’t care about any of your relationships or friendships when we all became a team afterwards.  And I sure as hell don’t care about any bullshit you’ve been holding onto.  I care about the work getting done.”

The truth was that Fury did care.  He cared a lot about each individual in the room.  He’d been through their ups and downs with them and literally went from training them to leading them in the field.  But he would also say whatever needed to be said in order to get them to focus on something else besides each other. 

And right now, Fury could tell his words reached at least a couple of people in the room as he spoke again, “Somehow all of you found ways to set aside your differences in the past…and believe me, your differences were blatantly obvious to all of us at Quantico from the start.  You worked together.  You became a damn good team.  Hell, you even became friends and family a long time ago.  So, please for the love of god, tell your stubborn sides to shut up and throw your pride out the window.  Because whether you like it or not, Loki obviously has something up his sleeve, and we’re in this together.” 

Banner, Rogers, Maria, and Thor nodded with the sentiment.

Fury sat down and continued, “While you were all screaming at each other as if you were on a daytime soap opera…yeah, I heard every goddamn word from the flight…I was in contact with your bosses at the CIA, NSA, and Homeland Security.  We’re all in agreement - the FBI has the lead on this case, and the people in this room will make up the joint-task force.”

Not everyone was buying the goods Fury was selling.  Stark glanced at Rhodey before he spoke, “As I recall, _Nick_ , you don’t usually share so well.  So, forgive me if I don’t fall for any of this bullshit.”

Bruce cut him off, “Jesus, Tony.  Is it possible for you to just shut up and listen for one goddamn second?  There is obviously something bigger at play here…”  Rhodey answered, “No shit.  But in case you didn’t notice, we’re the CIA.  Our entire work is in the area of ‘something bigger.’”

This escalation of egotism needed to be nipped in the bud immediately, or the flights’ greatest hits were going to be on repeat all day.    

“That’s enough,” Fury’s voice rose.  Sometimes, he really hated how right his intuition could be.

This was going to be _exactly_ as difficult as he thought, “Tony, I do share.  I’m nice like that.  I’m sharing my conference room with you right now, and if you’re polite, maybe I’ll even give you a donut.  So, if you have a problem, take it up with your superior.  But you’re not going to like his answer because I literally got off the phone with him 15 minutes ago.  You lost this one, so get over it.  You’re still on the case, but you’re going to have to play by our rules.  That goes for everyone here - Rhodey, consider what I just told your partner.  Thor, I better not catch any NSA tech being ‘misplaced’ around here, trying to gather FBI information.  Hill, you’re here to work on the case…not on your career.”

Bucky snorted under his breath at the lambasting tone the other side of the table heard.  Wanda hit his leg under the table, telling him silently, but with her fist, ‘He’s not done yet…’

“And as for the five of you,” Fury started as he directed his attention towards the FBI side of the table, “Fucking do better.  I didn’t train you all these years to be so easily provoked.”  They all knew he was right, staring at their boss.  They also knew the arguments were far from over, but for right now, they would have to figure out some way to work together. 

Steve took a breath and said, “You’re right, Nick.  Let’s get started.”  

Tony rolled his eyes, but lamented and nodded his head.  Of all the individuals present, Tony and Steve were most at odds.  If they both agreed to ‘play nice’ right now, then so could everyone else.   

Fury knew this as he said, “Finally, it’s about damn time.  Now let’s get started.  Maximoff…what do we have?” 

Wanda ran down everything from the intel they had prior to today on Loki’s activity and whereabouts.  She mentioned the evidence Steve grabbed from the house, which wasn’t much as she said, “I’ll need a little more time to cross reference some analysis of different tests…but I don’t really think it will show us anything.  I think the evidence is all a red herring, and the real source of the information is in the interrogation room.”

She looked at her boss as Fury said, “Bruce, why don’t you tell everyone what you told me when they were on their flight.”

Banner worked mainly with medical and psychological units to help out the FBI agents before, during, and after missions.  Wanda kept them grounded through her lab by being their eyes and ears.  Bruce kept the team grounded by keeping them in check and healthy _between_ their eyes and ears. 

Bruce studied Loki _a lot_ over the years, and if there was one thing he knew was Loki always kept the most important pieces of the puzzle closest to his vest.  Clearing his throat, he said, “Well…It’s not that it’s impossible to find anything of value from data and evidence.  Of course, there is.  It’s just with Loki…and with all of us, I think it’s safe to say that he is hiding something.  And the only way we’re going to find out whatever that _something_ is, is through talking to him.  It’s what he wants, and I know he’s going to provoke everyone in here as much as possible…” 

Bruce looked directly at Steve, as he said the last part.  Steve’s brow crinkled as Bruce continued, “So we really need to try and be calm when we talk to him…No matter what he tells us.  Because the only way we’re going to get anything real out of him, is by making him think we’re playing his game.  We have to give him what he wants essentially, but we also _have_ to keep our emotions in control.”

Everyone had a past with Loki.  Wanda, Bruce, and Natasha were actually the closest to him at the Academy.  Bruce and Wanda shared similar interests, and started to have similar strengths while in training.  None of the three of them were ‘best friends’ with him, but they got along with him the best out of everyone. 

That was then.  This is _now_. 

And now, everyone had a desire and a reason to punch his teeth in.  They all knew their patience would be tested to not physically wipe the smirk off of his face.  But what everyone _also_ knew was that Bruce’s statement was really only directed at one person – Steve Rogers, the individual with the most baggage in this situation.

Wanda’s hand squeezed her husband’s thigh, as they were both thinking the same thing right now.  This conversation was going to turn uncomfortable, very quickly.  Bucky spoke, “Bruce we get it.  We need to not show our hot-headed side around him.  I’m probably the biggest risk, since he brought up the fact that Wanda and I have a kid on the plane.” 

God Wanda loved him.  He was deflecting the conversation, trying to get the focus off of his brother.  Wanda had heard Loki’s empty comment about Peter as well, since she listened in on the flight…She swore in a creative string of expletives and actually wished her husband _had_ throttled Loki.  But as angry as the passive mention of Wanda and Bucky’s son made both of them, they knew the person who was most vulnerable around him was actually Steve. 

Fury knew what Bucky was trying to do for his brother.  But Fury also knew what he was doing. 

He wasn’t trying to hurt Rogers or make him uncomfortable.  Hell, Fury had come to love Steve like a son over the last 12 years.  But he also knew that Rogers needed a wake-up call.  A call that told him to put on every layer of thick skin he owned, because shit was about to hit the fan.  Fury was also telling everyone through the calm communication of Banner, that they all should fucking tread lightly when it comes to anything Loki might say. 

The message was received as Fury caught a glimpse of Steve clenching his jaw.  Fury stopped Barnes from continuing, “Stark, you wanted 15 minutes with our man of the hour…you got it.”  There were a couple of confused looks as he continued, “Everyone is going to get their 15 minutes with Loki, but like I said before, you do it by our rules.  You know, the rules you learned and promised to abide by, a long time ago.” 

Tony looked over at Steve, and for the first time since this whole thing started a couple of hours ago, he was trying to be cordial in his presence, as if he was communicating silently, ‘Okay.  I’ll try.’  Stark nodded at his old friend and former teammate with that sentiment. 

It was actually progress. 

Steve looked up and nodded at Tony, accepting the slight step forward he was making, and said, “Fury’s right.  We all have a connection with Loki, so every one of us is going to need to see what we can get out of him, no matter how difficult or painful that may be.”

Fury said, “Okay, let’s get to work”. 

* * *

The nine agents gathered in the observation room to watch as Fury went first. 

“Assistant Director Fury, god, authority looks good on you.  Really, this is a much better look than babysitting a bunch of trainees at Quantico,” Loki said. 

“Loki, you clearly think you’re holding a royal flush right now.  Why don’t you save us both a lot of time and tell me what game you think you’re playing, and then I can have the pleasure of telling you all about your new home in jail.  I think you’ll find it…less accommodating…than the luxuries you’re used to.”

Loki grinned, “Oh believe me, Nicholas.  You’ll be the one wishing he didn’t waste time when the cards are dealt.”  Fury spoke to him for five minutes before returning to the observation room, “He’s not here to talk to me.  I’m sure of that.  Who’s next?”

Banner spoke with him for about 20 minutes, trying to focus on the friendship they once shared.  But Loki kept changing the subject by talking about internet medical practices replacing doctors and how Banner will feel obsolete soon, and that if he asked nicely, Loki would be happy to try and find a spot for him in his criminal network.  Bruce wasn’t surprised, but he was worried because his hunch of Steve being the one Loki really wanted to talk to, was becoming more true with each person that struck out.  He returned to the room shrugging his shoulders and said, “Sorry everyone.” 

Rhodey went next, followed by Thor, and then Maria.  Each of their attempts were under ten minutes. They each came back in the room, admitting they were unsuccessful.  Rhodey threatened a black-site on Loki.  Maria threatened to pull political weight, and Thor tried to appeal to him in a straight forward manner, but he gave up nothing.  Sam and Bucky had longer sessions with him around 20 minutes each, but they had the same results as everyone else – talking in circular conversations full of antagonizing, empty statements. 

Stark followed Bucky.  He left in frustration after ten minutes and slammed his fist into a table when he returned.  Loki had taunted him with the fact that the CIA didn’t catch him before the FBI.  It wasn’t so much the taunting that made Stark angry.  It was the fact that there were only two people left to speak with him, and he’d given up nothing.  No reason as to why it was so easy this morning to arrest him, or why they were all here.  Stark’s intuition was twisting his stomach in knots that something dark was at play.        

Wanda entered the room.  Even though his back faced the door when she entered, he started speaking, letting her know that he knew it was her.

“Oh Wanda.  By my count there’s only you and the brooding lumberjack that’s watching us right now left to try and squeeze a little something out of me, right?”

She didn’t say anything as she came around to the other side of the table to sit across from him.  She was calm and collected, but extremely motivated.  Yes, it was true they had been friends, so on some level she wanted to be the one to break him and make him talk.  But what was driving her, was trying to get to him, so Steve wouldn’t have to come in here.       

She drummed her fingers on the metal table, staring at him.  Everyone else reacted to Loki’s prodding right away.  Some tried a friendlier humanized approach while others tried a more threatening path.  Wanda wasn’t going to do either.  She just watched him tick, because he couldn’t stand silence – he never could. 

A chink in his armor was finally exposed.  He was _visibly_ annoyed at her.  Loki spoke again in a darker tone, “Well, you’re certainly smarter than the pathetic excuses that have wasted my time already…Tell me Wanda dear…how can you stand being married to a moron like Barnes.  I mean, I hope your son… _Peter…_ right?  I hope he takes after you, otherwise I regret to inform you that he might be doomed.”

What Wanda wanted to do was pull his chain so tight against the table that his head slammed against the metal.  What she wanted to do was punch his teeth in and make it clear that he is never to speak of her husband or son. 

But as she told her team a few hours ago before this all began, she spoke to herself, ‘Let cooler heads prevail.’  He was showing his weakness.  He was unnerved by her collected appearance and was trying his damndest to provoke her, using the low hanging fruit of her son and husband as targets. 

Wanda went with her instinct and threw him a curveball.  She threw everyone a curveball as she finally spoke, “You know Loki, you’d like Peter…even though he most definitely takes after James.  Although if I were being honest, he shares some characteristics with you too.  He’s all over the place at times and full of energy, but he’s wickedly smart and naturally funny, even for as young as he is…not unlike how you were when you were a lot younger…”

She had caught him off guard.  Loki’s eyes questioned her, trying to figure out what she thought she was doing.  She looked up at the camera for a second, trying to tell her husband with the glance, ‘Stay calm, James.’

His eyes narrowed, “What do you think you’re doing, Wanda?  You think you still know me and can break through to me?  You think you can appeal to me since we used to spend time around one another.” 

Loki was actually angry.  He had displayed anger in his mocking tone when they arrested him, but this was the first time that a flash of genuine emotion came out of him. 

Wanda leaned back in her chair and folded her hands gently in her lap, “Maybe it would be easier to be honest with others if you started being honest with yourself, Loki.  I know there’s no attempt at trying to appeal to you.  I’m just a woman, sitting across from a man who used to be a partner and a friend.  You weren’t someone who I ‘used to spend time around’…the word is _friend_.”

He said, “Don’t you dare try to pull on heartstrings that aren’t there, Maximoff.”

“I’m not trying to pull on anything, Loki.  I’m simply stating the truth.  I think it’s ironic that you clearly accounted for how difficult this would be on all of us, drudging up whatever it is you’re playing at, and exposing old wounds from our past.  But what you failed to account for…what you’ve always failed to account for, is how the consequences of your actions don’t just affect people you want to hurt.  They affect you too.” 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he started, but she quickly cut him off. 

Everyone in the observation room could tell the power dynamic had shifted.   Wanda clearly was tapping into something. 

Sam nudged Bucky, “I think she might be able to actually get something out of him, Buck.  He’s ticked off enough that he might actually slip up.”  Bucky grinned back at Wilson, “Yeah, I fucking love my wife.”

Wanda leaned forward, placing her elbows on her knees and stared right at him, “Oh Loki…I know _exactly_ what I’m talking about.  For a long time now, you’ve been so blinded by your mis-placed hatred, that you can’t even recognize when someone is actually just being genuine with you.”

“No one staring at us in that room out there has any interest in being genuine, Wanda.  They want their pound of flesh.”  All the sarcasm was gone in his voice.    

“They may want that, but you can’t blame them for ending up on the most wanted list.  You caused that.  No one else.”  She waited a couple of seconds before continuing, “It’s a shame, Loki.  You have always been incredibly smart…your intelligence always kept you three steps ahead, and that played in your favor when you chose a life of crime.  But it also kept you out of touch.  It’s a shame to think of what you could have done with us, if you would have stayed with the team instead of selling your soul.  And for what?  Money, drugs, power, women…men?”

Now full of anger, he said “And what do you have, Wanda?  _Love?_ Pathetic.  I have made choices, yes…But you’d be surprised at what people will do to survive when left to the wolves.  It is a kill or be killed world, and nobody gave a second thought when I was tossed out like a piece of trash.” 

She quickly answered, “So, this whole show today is for what?  To show us what you have without us?  Where are all of those false idols you’ve built, Loki?  Where is your criminal network?  The problem with living in a world where everyone is out for themselves, is that when it comes time to need help, you’re on your own.”

She had struck several nerves.  “Oh you’re good, my dear.  So much better than I remember.  You almost had me.  But you know what?  I think...I’m not going to give you those answers, Wanda.  I think if any of you want _any_ answers, you’ll need to bring in your fearless brother-in-law.  We’re done here.” 

It was over as the metaphorical door to this conversation was slammed shut.

He stopped talking, and Wanda was surprised that he ended their conversation abruptly.  She had gotten further with him than anyone else, and he was visibly vulnerable right now.  She waited several more minutes as Loki stared at the table, almost staring through it, lost in thought.

She hated all of this.  She hated the memories it drudged up.  She hated that Steve was going to go through whatever he had to in order to get Loki to talk.  She hated this deep pit in her stomach.  Like everyone else leaving the room felt, she couldn’t help think that something awful was about to happen.

As Wanda stood up to leave, there was no sneer or glare or grin anymore.  Loki’s façade was gone, and a lonely and empty man was left.  A lonely man, who at the moment had nothing to lose. 

She met Steve in the hallway and she stopped him, “Steve,” but he cut her off, “Wanda, don’t.  You did great, and you got him ready for me…really.”

Her eyes wrinkled at him, “No, Steve.  You don’t.  You don’t let him get to you.  You know he’s going to bring up Natasha.”

God, it had been awhile since she had said her name out loud to Steve.  It sounded like ice breaking, just as it did when Peter said her name early this morning by accident. 

“Wanda, I can handle this.” She frowned at him as he squeezed her shoulder and went inside. 

It had been a long day already.  The early morning rise and run before their AM meeting.  The mission.  The mess of old partners being thrown back together, forcibly.  The fighting and bickering and conference room.  The trying and trying and trying of each agent to get Loki to talk.     

The afternoon had turned to early evening as Rogers went inside and Wanda returned to the observation room saying to herself, “How can you handle this when we don’t even know what _this_ is?”

* * *

**_12 Years Ago –_ **

_Steve and his group ended up going to a bar called ‘The Dive.’_

_A couple of hours in, and the evening festivities were well underway.  Stark and Loki were flaunting the fact that they both came from money - from the look of their clothes to their mentions of extravagant vacations and expensive cars to them both insisting drinks were on them.  Tony stood on a chair an hour ago letting every female know a round of drinks was on him.  Loki followed immediately after, letting every man in the bar know that he would equal the gesture.  It didn’t matter at all, but Steve, Sam, and Bucky had suspected after a few weeks that Loki may be more interested in the gender of people he just bought drinks for versus who Tony did._

_Bruce and Thor were in a competitive game of pool.  Sam and Rhodey were bonding over military stories, joking about whether the Air Force (Wilson) or Marines (Rhodes) were tougher, “Dude, I hit nine G’s last year in a dog fight.  Beat that.” Sam said.  “Aw that’s cute, Sam.  You know…we love it when you boys in the air can fly a little fast.  It gets us where we need to go faster to do the real work on the ground…Oorah.” Rhodey answered._

_Steve and Bucky laughed at their jeering as Bucky said, “So typical.  The flash of the Air Force and the arrogance of the Marines fighting it out…,” as Steve added, “All while the Army actually does all the work.”  They clinked their glasses and started laughing._

_Sam and Rhodey overheard them and joined the brothers.  Keeping the joking light, Bucky added, “Hey…we’re all good here.  At least none of us are in the Navy.”  The men all laughed at the ribbing.  Before they knew it, their laughter was directed at Tony striking out at his attempted pick-up line on a woman he had just given a drink to._

_Tony came over and joked, “Something must have been wrong with her hearing…or vision.”  Steve answered, “You know Tony…If you actually treated the women you’re hitting on with respect, maybe they’d talk to you.”_

_Bucky smacked Tony on the shoulders, “Don’t listen to my brother, Stark.  He’s an idiot.”_

_Loki, Thor, and Bruce had joined the conversation at the same time and started laughing as Steve rolled his eyes.  Bucky finished, “Watch and learn boys.”_

_They watched…and they learned that if Steve was an idiot, then Bucky was a moron.  Within 30 seconds, a drink was spilled on him followed by a slap to the face, as the brunette he had clearly pissed off, created distance from him._

_He shrugged his shoulders, clearly unaffected as he returned to the group as Thor said, “Why do I fear that is not your first encounter with a drink or a hand to the face by a beautiful woman?”  Steve raised his beer and said, “Thor you’re more perceptive than people give you credit for…If I had a nickel for every time I’ve seen Buck get smacked…”_

_“Yeah, and if I had a dollar for every time a woman I’m hitting on asked me about my brother instead of me, we’d be buying the drinks tonight instead of Stark and Loki,” Bucky said._

_Steve rolled his eyes, but Tony quickly added, “Yeah Barnes, what the hell is that all about?  I’ve had two women tonight ask me who my friend with the great arms and blue eyes is?  Maybe we should all look like a lost puppy dog missing his sidekick.”_

_Bucky grinned at Steve as Sam added, “Or at least seem as disinterested in the ladies here as Rogers, and maybe we’ll all end up with someone tonight.”_

_Steve’s face turned a light shade of red as he took another drink of his beer and rolled his eyes.  The truth was that Natasha had been right.  Several women had tried to come up and talk to Steve at the bar, but he deflected and tried to point them in the direction of his friends.  That was before they had pretty much pissed off each female in the bar, even with Tony’s free round of drinks._

_“Whatever guys…,” but Bucky quickly cut him off, “Steve, you asked for all of this you know.  I mean it’s pretty obvious that you can’t even look at another girl here without thinking of your Lady in Red.”  Everyone was laughing and having a great time as Bucky, Sam, and Tony all patted him on the back, telling him they were just giving him a hard time._

_They stayed in the bar for another half hour before Sam said, “We should join up with the ladies.  If we’re not going to get laid tonight, we might as well have a good time with everyone.”_

_For the first time, people started giving Sam a hard time tonight instead of Steve.  Tony said, “I’m sure you would have a good time, Sam…With Maria.  I’ve seen the way you look at her.”_

_“Whatever,” Sam said as Steve cut him off, “Don’t come running to me for help, Sam…I’ve put up with this shit all night.”_

_Loki spoke next, “He’s right though.  Wanda just texted and said they’re going to a bar called ‘The Mile’ next.  It’s only a little way from here.”  Everyone agreed as Bucky asked, “Wait…Loki, why are you and Wanda texting?”  Bucky knew that Loki and Wanda had grown close as friends over the last month.  They both had more of a draw towards the technology and academic side of the Academy.  He also suspected with his roommates that Loki wasn’t necessarily interested in women in **that** way, but he couldn’t help feel a tinge of envy.  Bucky had been trying to get Wanda’s number since day one, and she shot down each of his efforts, almost in the same manner as the brunette just shot down his face with her hand.  _

_Loki answered, “Oh Barnes…Your brother isn’t the only one who looks like a lost puppy now.”_

_Sam added, “Thank God, the attention is off me for a while,” as they all exited the bar to meet up with Wanda, Maria, and Natasha._

* * *

_Wanda kept texting Loki to see where the guys were, and she was waiting outside for them when they arrived at ‘The Mile.’_

_She yelled and jumped up and down when she saw them.  She gave them each a big hug as the men grinned at her elation, clearly showing she had more than a few drinks tonight.  “You’ll never guess how many shots Maria and I did,” she said._

_Bucky held on tight when she had hugged him last.  She didn’t even realize it was him until he spoke, “Wanda…I’m afraid to know the answer to that.  How drunk are you?”_

_She squirmed out of his arms, “Oh shut up, James…I’m a big girl, and I know how to handle my liquor.”  She hiccupped and his brow furrowed at her.  She looked up at him and narrowed her eyes at his face, “James, why is your cheek red?  It looks like something hit you.”_

_The rest of the men burst out in a roar of laughter as Bruce said, “She’s clearly sober enough to pick up on that minor detail, Barnes.”_

_She winked at him and escorted them all into the bar._

_Wanda took them over to a corner where Maria was sitting.  She stood up to give a couple of the guys a high five and yelled, “Hey guys.  Come to join the real party?”  They all joined in the fun immediately as Sam and Tony went to get a round of drinks, and Bucky licked his wounds from another rejection from Wanda.  A deck of cards was already being dealt by Rhodey to whoever wanted to join in, and Thor and Banner went back to another game of Pool arguing over ‘Who was the strongest Billiards player.’_

_Steve noticed instantly that Natasha wasn’t by Maria.  He started scanning the bar to see where she was.  He started to feel nervous as he continued to look when he heard Maria say, “She stepped outside, Rogers.  She said she’d be back in a few minutes.  Something about fresh air.”_

_Steve left the bar immediately to go back outside and look for her.  Honestly, he had a great time at the previous bar with the guys.  It was good for all of them to have this time to relax and let loose.  But what he was really looking forward to was being around Natasha again._

_Steve didn’t notice her by the front entrance, and he couldn’t see her anywhere in the parking lot.  He chewed on the inside of his lip as he felt like calling her name.  Maybe he misheard Maria and Natasha wasn’t actually out here._

_If only he had misheard…_

_Two voices caught his attention just as he was about to go back into the bar.  He stopped and cocked his head to the side and noticed there was an alley to his right.  From where he stood, Steve couldn’t decipher anything besides the muffled sounds and inflections of two individuals talking, intermixed with the beats of the jukebox and laughter coming from the bar._

_It was more than curiosity that caused him to turn to his right instead of open the door to the bar.  He knew himself well enough to know that something instinctual was telling him to move towards the alley._

_He moved about 40 feet and started to recognize differences.  One of the voices was clearly Natasha’s.  He could recognize her sultry and low tone anywhere.  Again, he wanted to yell out her name and run to her because a small part of him was happy to hear her.  Another small part of him was concerned because he started thinking, ‘What if someone followed her outside?’  His thoughts were fleeting because there was no sign of struggle or worry in her voice.   The larger part of him that was at the forefront of his mind was again, instinctual.  His nerves were suddenly on high alert, sounding all the alarms inside of him._

_He stepped a little closer, so he was right at the corner, and he could distinctly hear that the other voice was a man’s.  Steve didn’t recognize him, and he immediately thought of his conversation with Bucky in their room earlier, as doubt started to creep in his mind._

_He peered around the corner and confirmed it was Natasha with another man.  The man was a little taller than Natasha, had brown hair, and was in a dark jacket and pants._

_They stood close to one another as Steve listened to them._

_Natasha said, “What did you want me to do?  We haven’t been able to get off campus before tonight.” The man answered, “You should have found a way.  That’s what you were told before you started this.”_

_Natasha became defensive and said, “Hey, where’s the trust?  I have earned this, Clint.  You need to have my fucking back like you always have.”  Silence filled the air for several seconds as the man named Clint groaned, “What’s the deal with the guy, Tasha?”_

_Steve felt his stomach twist into knots._

_Sam’s comment about Natasha being a ‘master of deflection’, Bucky’s concerns, and all of Steve’s questions that were unanswered played in his mind as he heard Natasha answer, “You’re being absurd you know that, Clint?  This is about you, me, and trust.  You either trust me, or you don’t.”_

_Clint huffed and quickly spoke back to her, “Cut the crap.  I know you, Natasha, and I know that part of you has always wanted out.  But, you should know better than anyone, that we don’t get what we want in this life.”_

_Steve could feel a pounding starting in his head as he clenched his fists.  He honestly wasn’t processing what the words actually meant right now.  All he knew is that everything he thought since day one with her suddenly felt tainted._

_Natasha grabbed the other man’s hands as she said, “Clint look, you can always trust me.  You know that.  But please, you have to let me get through the FBI training.”  He sighed at her words and looked at her with affection before he said, “I just miss you.”_

_Steve felt like he was kicked in the stomach as his throat went dry when he heard Natasha answer, “I miss you too.”_

_He saw them hug for a few seconds and nod at each other.  Then, he watched the man disappear down the alley.  He was out of sight but definitely not out of mind.  He continued to watch Natasha compose herself as she wiped a tear from her cheek._

_Steve’s mind was racing.  Confusion, jealousy, anger – blocked out everything else at the moment.  He didn’t know what would happen if he walked in the alleyway at that exact moment, and he felt like the ground beneath him was shifting.  No, he needed to avoid her at the moment.  He needed to sit._

_He needed a strong fucking drink._

_Steve finally opened his fists as he went back into the bar and felt the numbness fade as feeling returned to his fingers.  Questions pounded through his brain, ‘What is going on...Who was that man…Why were they fucking touching?’  And most importantly, the same question rang through his head a month into ‘knowing’ her, or so he thought.  He had asked it when she ran out of the coffee shop.  He had asked it after day one of their training when he realized Natasha Romanoff was in the FBI Training program with him.  And he was asking it now in a loud and demanding yell to himself, ‘Who the hell is Natasha Romanoff?’_

_He sat at the bar, ordered two shots of whiskey from the bartender, and he downed both of them quickly to take the edge off his thoughts._

_Bucky watched the scene unfold in front of him._

_He saw Steve leave the bar five minutes earlier.  He watched Steve storm back inside just now, obviously pissed off.  When his brother was angry, he didn’t hide it particularly well.  He saw Steve throw himself onto a stool at the corner of the bar and down two shots, which was totally unlike him._

_Bucky’s head cocked toward the entrance again as he watched Natasha come back in, without any emotion showing on her face.  Bucky wasn’t going to interfere.  Steve was a big boy and could figure this situation out on his own.  He had voiced his concerns to his brother earlier, and if Steve asked, Bucky would be first in line to help.  But if Bucky was being honest with himself, he was getting a kick of out the dramatic scene playing out in front of him._

_He sat back in his chair and watched as Romanoff look over to where Maria, Wanda, and she were sitting before.  Surprise flashed in her eyes when she saw the men there.  And then concern.  Apparently, Wanda and Maria had the idea of contacting the men while Natasha was outside, because Romanoff appeared to be completely clueless as to why they were there._

_Natasha look right past Bucky as he stared at her as she scanned through the group, clearly looking for Steve.  Now, his amusement shifted - he was officially curious as he quirked his eyebrow._

_He stood and went over to Natasha, “He’s not over here.  He just came in from outside…He was looking for you.”  She looked at him with what he thought was concern again.  But if Bucky was completely sober, he would have noticed a little worry go through her eyes at that same moment._

_He narrowed his eyes at her.  But she didn’t even register the fact he was trying to figure out why she was acting aloof or why they could possibly be fighting.  She started scanning the bar and found Steve’s hunched shoulders as the bartender delivered him another drink._

_Bucky leaned in and spoke, “You two must be having a lover’s quarrel because it takes a lot to make my brother drink liquor like a fish.”_

_Finally, Bucky watched as Natasha shoved passed him, muttering, “Shit,” as she approached Steve at the bar._

_Again, if Bucky were completely sober, maybe he would have been curious **enough** to figure out what sort of drama was about to unfold.  But he wasn’t sober.  His buzz was more than setting in, and he wanted to get back to the group and to Wanda.  So, he shrugged the whole thing off, telling the rest of the group his brother and Romanoff were just horny and needed to do something about it soon.  _

* * *

_Natasha moved towards Steve._

_She was anxious inside, but outside she forced a look of resolve and coolness.  She was going to approach this situation with the hope that maybe he was over here by himself because Tony said something to piss him off._

_She grazed his right shoulder with her hand and whispered in his ear, “Hey there soldier, want to buy me a drink?”  From the initial make-out sessions, to their boxing together, to the occasional hand holding or brushing against each other’s skin, it always felt magnetic when they came in contact with each other.  Like they fit and wanted more._

_Now, for the first time, she felt Steve’s body tense from her touch and not in a good way.  It reminded her of how a dog’s tail goes rigid when it sees something threatening.  That was the word to describe Steve right now – rigid.  That resolve she was trying to display was officially wearing thin as her anxiety rose._

_Joking was off the table._

_She sat down on the stool next to him at the corner of the bar.  He was looking down at his scotch which apparently, he had ordered **in addition** to the empty shot glasses next to him.  She reached over and placed her hand on his forearm, “Hey.”  He retreated from her touch like she was burning him.  Now, Natasha was the one to feel knots in her stomach. _

_He finally looked up, and their eyes met.  Apparently, sincerity was off the table too._

_His stare…more like a glare right now…caused her to shift on her stool, as the worry and anxiety started to morph into a panicked feeling inside of her._

_Natasha tried to speak again, “Steve, let’s get out of here.”  It was a plea, and so unlike her but she was in unchartered waters with him right now.  She leaned in close enough that Steve could smell the mixture of her perfume, shampoo, and everything else that was ‘her’ as his nostrils flared, “I’m not going anywhere with you, Natasha.  Why don’t you go find Clint?”_

_Her stomach dropped and she flinched._

_The blue in his eyes always gave her a warm feeling over the last month.  Now his icy stare just made her feel cold._

_Pleading more, she said, “Steve, please.  Please…let’s get out of here, and I’ll explain everything that you think you might have seen or heard outside.”  Steve shook his head and let out a lengthy breath through both his mouth and nose, trying to calm himself._

_The next thing she heard was Steve speaking in a low tone, staring at his glass of scotch, “I don’t ‘think’ I saw anything, Natasha.  I **know** what I saw, and I know what I heard.  And, what I heard was a woman who I’ve spent **every** waking minute with over the last month sound like a complete stranger.  What I heard was you talking to a man I’ve never seen before, and it was clear you have a history with him.”_

_He looked up at her again and saw her eyes shift at his tone as he finished, “The only thing I apparently don’t know…is you.”_

_The bartender brought over two more shots, and he downed them both._

_Now she was getting angry.  She didn’t know what he had heard – just that it had caused him to be jealous, or angry, or everything else.  And while she knew she deserved the projected feelings coming from him, her fiery spirit reared its head.  She wasn’t going to sit her and watch him get sloshed beyond comprehension._

_She fought the battle between their eyes and reached across him in frustration.  Her chest brushed his arm as she grabbed his full drink and emptied it in her mouth in one single gulp.  Natasha winced as the liquid burned in her throat.  She sat back again as she felt a warmth crawl up her spine to her face._

_Steve let out a sarcastic laugh at her little display, “I thought you liked vodka, not scotch.  Or was that another lie?”_

_Right or wrong, the stubbornness in both of them had been fueled by the events of the evening, by their words and stares, and by the alcohol._

_She rolled her eyes at him, “I don’t like scotch, but you clearly aren’t going to share.  Plus, I needed to get your attention.”  Steve clenched his jaw, “I’m out of here Natasha.  Have fun with whoever you like…I don’t care.”_

_He stood up, and she quickly moved in front of him, blocking his path to the door.  Natasha put her hands on his stomach and arm and said, “Goddamnit, Rogers.  You do too care.”  She paused and looked up at him, “Steve, whatever you’re thinking, you have to let me explain.”_

_Steve batted away her hands and looked down at her.  The anger quickly faded and now all she could see was hurt behind the blue._

_“You’re right, Natasha.  I do care.  I care that you lied to me again.”  Steve started walking past her, but he paused for a second and added in a defeated but sincere tone, “Goodnight, and be safe.”_

_Then he walked out the door._

_Natasha felt a burning in her eyes.  She knew he was mad at her, but he still had to be **so** fucking good on top of it all.  All of the anger that came from him a few minutes ago had been sucked out of his voice when he told her to be safe.  Like no matter how hurt he was, he still cared that she was okay.  _

_Goddamnit was right._

_She wanted to cry, but she fought it.  She was upset at herself for being so stupid to not realize the men were joining up with them tonight.  She was upset at herself that Steve had overheard something outside.  She was upset at Steve for being stubborn, righteous, attractive, honest, and **good**.  She was upset at everything. _

_He blew into her life a month ago unexpectedly and he just walked out of it right now._

_She was stubborn and determined to make him listen as she said to herself, ‘No way, Rogers,’ as she exited the bar and chased after him._

_Bucky caught the entire Romanoff and Rogers show as they both stormed out of the bar and thought drunkenly to himself, ‘Those two are going to spontaneously combust if they don’t do something now.’_

* * *

 

__

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	7. Sometimes You See White.  Sometimes You See Red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a quick after Chapter Notes in this one, but I wanted to quickly say the times are reversed in this one. We’re starting in the past, first.

Memories & Reality

I do not own any of this or any part of Marvel or the MCU

Chapter 7 – Sometimes You See White.  Sometimes You See Red.

* * *

**_12 Years Ago –_ **

_Natasha wanted to cry, but she fought it.  She was upset at herself for being so stupid to not realize the men were joining up with them tonight.  She was upset at herself that Steve had overheard something outside.  She was upset at Steve for being stubborn, righteous, attractive, honest, and **good**.  She was upset at everything. _

_He blew into her life a month ago unexpectedly, and he just walked out of it right now._

_She was stubborn and determined to make him listen as she said to herself, ‘No way, Rogers,’ as she exited the bar and chased after him._

_Bucky caught the entire Romanoff and Rogers show as they both stormed out of the bar and thought drunkenly to himself, ‘Those two are going to spontaneously combust if they don’t do something now.’_

* * *

_Natasha found him pacing in the parking lot and called out to him, “Steve.”_

_He looked back at her and turned away as she started walking towards him.  She yelled this time, “Rogers!”_

_Steve obviously did not want to be around her at the moment.  He turned around and saw her moving closer to him and shook his head.  His brain was buzzing from the liquor that he had just taken in, and he didn’t know what to think, but he knew he needed to be alone at the moment._

_He hadn’t called a cab yet since he just walked out of the bar.  So, while he was stuck in the vicinity, he didn’t need to stay in the same spot she was approaching.  Separating himself from her, he walked towards the alley that Natasha was in with ‘Clint’ only 20 minutes ago._

_She put her hands on her hips and stopped to watch him.  If he wanted to test her ability to be stubborn, she was up for the challenge.  Natasha knew he had nowhere to go right this second, or maybe more accurately, she knew he had no way of getting away from her.  She huffed out a breath and started after him again._

_Steve hoped she would grant him the space his feelings were demanding right now.  He made himself pretty clear when he shoved passed her, walked out of the bar, and ignored her a minute ago._

_There was a collision of thoughts and feelings going on inside of Steve Rogers.  He wanted to be away from here right now, back in his room, on a trail running, or punching a bag.  He wanted to erase the last hour from his memory, or better yet, he wanted it to have never happened in the first place.  He wanted all of the doubts voiced from Bucky and Sam, and felt by him, to not actually be validated._

_He wanted…God, he wanted to run his hands through her hair still.  How could his desire and affection for her still be battling the anger coursing through his brain this second?_

_Yes, anger.  That was a feeling he could focus on.  He was so angry…and hurt… **and** pissed off.  _

_He was pissed off at Natasha because he felt like an idiot for defending her to Bucky earlier in the evening.  Everything his brother had said to him in their room before going out, somehow rang true right now.  But Steve was even more pissed at himself because no matter how angry he was right now, there was still a large part of him that just wanted to grab her and kiss the stubborn pout off of her face he caught a glimpse of as he walked away from her.  He couldn’t deny that._

_But he could avoid it at the moment._

_Steve let his back hit the brick wall.  There was a dim light from the parking lot, causing his vision to become muted, but it wasn’t completely dark.  He pinched the bridge of his nose and sucked in the crisp air._

_His avoiding her only lasted a moment though.  “Goddamnit,” he muttered to himself as he heard her heels clicking against the pavement as she followed him into the alley._

_Steve heard her voice next.  He really shouldn’t have been surprised, but he was…she completely threw out the pleading tone in her voice that she had a few minutes ago in the bar.  Instead, her tenacious side was clearly in command as she spoke in a biting tone, “What Rogers, you’re not even going to talk to me?  You’re supposed to be the mature one here, remember?”_

_She stopped when she was about five feet away and crossed her arms.  He looked down at her and he could almost laugh at the nerve of her tone, stance, and overall demeanor.  Instead, he shook his head and threw his words at her, “Natasha, I don’t think there’s anything to explain.  More lies…more secrets.  Hell, I bet your secrets have secrets.”_

_Even though Natasha was 100% in the wrong and they **both** knew it, their hormones and emotions were flaring rapidly.  She was stubborn, he was righteous.  Her tone was unbelievable, and his words hurt.  Her eyes narrowed and she struck back, “You know, Steve.  I think I found a flaw in you finally.  You’re being awfully hypocritical right now…”_

_The audacity of this woman outsized her petite frame, ten-fold._

_Steve couldn’t think straight as he scoffed.  His throat tightened as he felt his face redden, “I don’t know what is harder to swallow, Natasha.  The fact that you’re trying to dig yourself out of this right now by deflecting, or the fact that you’re only doing it because you were caught.”_

_She took a step forward with her arms crossed, “I’m not deflecting.  I’m calling you out.  You’re being a hypocrite.”  She watched as his jaw twitched before continuing, “It was only a month ago when you had your hand on my ass and your knee between my legs when you told me I could be a little nicer and actually let you talk before jumping to conclusions.”_

_He flinched._

_He thought of the memory and the heat of their bodies, and stared at how close she was to him right now and, fuck did it make his blood boil from how badly he wanted to recreate that image in his brain right now._

_But that wasn’t the point.  “That’s not the same and you know it, Natasha.  You’re twisting my words from when you accused me of trying to be some white knight to you.  It was bullshit then, and it’s an even bigger load of crap now,” he said._

_She quickly answered, “So does that mean you’re going to let me talk now to prove me wrong?”_

_They could hear each other’s breathing as she added, “Steve, please.”_

_He shut his eyes tight as she kept talking, “Steve, I’ve tried to start telling you so many times over the last month, but I couldn’t.”_

_Just when she sounded a little remorseful for a second, another excuse rang through his ears again.  His eyes sprang open, “No Natasha, you wouldn’t.  There is a huge fucking difference.”_

_She laughed once and shook her head as she took a step back, threw her hands in the air, and began pacing.  “You are so damn stubborn and impossible, Steve.”  He jumped on her words, “Now who’s being a hypocrite, Natasha.  You definitely give me a run for my money when it comes to being stubborn.”_

_She crossed her arms again, retreating inward on herself and she spoke softer now, “You think this is easy for me, Steve?  God, you think everything is so black and white.”_

_“No, I don’t,” he answered immediately, “I just know that some things are, and you think nothing is.  You live in this world of deflection, half-truths, non-answers, and grey…or at least that’s how it seems.  Especially in moments like this.”_

_A little.  Just a little of the anger had seeped out of his tone as they actually began to talk instead of just lash out at one another._

_She moved closer again, “Believe me, Steve.  I know all about hard lines and the consequences of stepping over them.  I am very familiar with black and white mentality.  But in between your precious morals of right or wrong…good or bad…truth or lie, there is a world of grey in the middle where us mortals live.”_

_He shook his head.  Not in a defiant way, but almost sad, “Me wanting to know about your family, or upbringing, or any snippet of information from your past, like why I heard you curse in Russian the other day, is not me being moral.  It’s normal to want to know those things when it’s someone you care about.”  He looked right into her eyes and continued with a little less anger, “And it’s normal for me to be upset when I saw you touching another man tonight, of whom I know nothing about because you won’t tell me.  You won’t tell me anything.”_

_He struck a nerve because her face was frozen as he watched her hands drop to her side.  Her fingers started to shake a little as she dropped her head.  How could she infuriate and piss him off to no end, but all he wanted to do right now was reach out and hug her to try and make her feel better._

_He swallowed and rubbed his face as he collected his thoughts and spoke again, “How would I know any of the middle or grey area, Nat?  You don’t let me in.  You’re inside my walls like no one has ever been.  All I want to do is know more about you, and I’m still at the front gate…without a key.”_

_He called her Nat._

_It was the first time in the last half an hour that it happened.  She didn’t care that it was probably an accident…a slip of his tongue.  It gave her confidence at hearing him say it.  A red strand of hair had fallen in front of her face as she looked up at him again, “I have let you in more than I have ever let anyone in my life, Steve.  You have to believe me.  I **need** you to believe me.”  _

_Her fingers weren’t the only thing shaking right now._

_Steve’s breathing paused as he saw her lip tremble.  She still hadn’t answered any of his questions, but god if his heart didn’t twist at seeing her struggle right now._

_He said, “And I want to believe you, Natasha, but it doesn’t look like you’ve let me anywhere near you…especially when I see you and a guy named ‘Clint’ being pretty damn close.”_

_Natasha eliminated the remaining distance between them with her final step.  Their clothes were almost touching as she placed her hand on his shoulder and spoke quietly, “Steve, Clint is my family…He’s my brother.”_

_It was like an explosion went off in Steve’s head.  His ears were practically ringing as her words repeated over and over internally.  His thoughts swirled with all different emotions.  The one emotion though, that was quickly dissolving was jealousy, which he had been too proud to admit out loud even feeling in the first place._

_Jealousy is an ugly little monster.  When it disappears, other emotions like anger, can start to dissipate._

_Unlike at the bar, Steve didn’t move away from her touch this time, but he was still very confused, “I don’t understand, your brother?”_

_Natasha ran her thumb back and forth along his shoulder as she nodded and answered, “He and I are the only family…The only people we could rely on in our lives.  And yes, you heard correctly.  He misses me, and I miss him terribly.”_

_Steve gazed at her, hearing the obvious affection she had for her brother, “I will tell you more Steve, I promise.  I really have wanted to, but there are things you don’t understand.  So, I hope you can be patient with me a little longer.  Because right now, I’m too scared to say anything else.”_

_Steve’s stare shifted as his forehead creased with worry, and his protective instincts returned, “Natasha, you don’t have to be scared.”_

_Her fingers pushed deeper into his shoulder at his words.  As ironic as it was, and as dishonest or deceiving as she had been with him multiple times, he just **knew** she was being open and honest with him right now.  But he couldn’t begin to understand.  He had thoughts and had formed theories.  He would bet his life on Natasha having suffered some sort of trauma earlier in her life, but for some reason she was unable to share.  Every time Steve went down one of these speculative rabbit holes though, it always ended in more questions.  Just like now, more questions.  Why was she afraid?  And what couldn’t she say? _

_She looked down at the ground, “I’m not just scared for me, Steve.  I’m scared for you.”  The knots in his stomach were gone, but there was a hint of dread in her words just now._

_His mind was racing, but honestly, he was shocked that she had told him the little she had in the last few minutes.  It may seem trivial on paper, but Steve learning that Natasha had a brother and family, and that she was scared for reasons he didn’t understand right now, was anything but small.  She had taken huge steps forward in her trust for him, and he knew it.  He could see it in her face._

_He could feel it._

_He reached down to brush the stray hair behind her ear and tilted her face up, “I still don’t understand, Natasha.”  Their eyes met as his hands fell to her hips as she whispered, “Steve, I’m not just scared to tell you things.  I’m scared how much I want you.  I’m scared how much I **need** you in my life…every day.  I’m not used to…”_

_She was cut off from speaking any further as he closed the distance between their lips._

_He needed her too, desperately._

_The rampant tension broke as the memories, feelings, and affection that had been building between them over the last month came crashing down into this moment.  She may have been lying to him – blatantly.  But they were both lying to themselves just as much.  Yes, their friendship deepened since they agreed to be friends, but it was a cover.  It was a cover for wanting something more._

_Nobody else bought into it, and they were in denial until right now._

_The intimacy and desire that came out of nowhere when they met initially had never gone away.  It only became a constant undercurrent for weeks, that they barely stayed away from, as they tiptoed around their feelings during their time together.  Ever present, their dormant desire was just waiting for the opportunity to emerge._

_And just as Natasha’s deflection and secrets were coming to a tipping point right now, so was the basis of their relationship.  Tonight, their anger and passion sparked a confrontation about her honesty with Steve.  But it also blew the door wide open to what was pretend and truth in their relationship.  They were damn fools to think they could get through this training program only as friends._

_Pretending was over._

_It had been a month since he felt the velvet of her lips and now, he knew he couldn’t get enough.  The last two times they did this, their first kisses had been tentative.  That was long gone.  There was nothing uncertain about what was occurring._

_The hard pressure of their lips quickly deepened with a hunger as she pushed against him and moaned into his mouth.  His hands moved around her as he grabbed her hair, and encircled the small of her back, pulling her body flush against him.  There was no more brushing against each other.  Their bodies were pressed hard enough against each other that they could feel the rhythm behind each other’s heavy breathing._

_Just like a month ago, she pushed against him until his back came into contact with the wall.  She moaned a little louder her lips parted and their tongues met in a hot and wet tangle._

_She needed more and she needed it now.  Her hand moved under his shirt much faster than last time.  She traced her nails up his stomach until she found the metal chain she saw earlier, peeking through his shirt.  She pressed her palm firmly against the contours of his chest as her finger tips grazed over the tips of his army tag._

_His tongue licked her lips as she rolled her hips against him.  Trailing her hand down his side, she felt the interruption of skin from the seam of his boxers peeking out of his pants.  She moved her fingers down a little lower over the denim and pressed into his thigh, right below his hip._

_Steve grunted and pushed her away for a moment to look.  His eyes flickered at the site of her.  Hair messy, eyes pleading and dark, lips plump and raw.  The blunt details of her image were all his dilated pupils took in.  And it all went straight to his core, coiling at the center, causing him to feel hot and desperate, “I need you too, Nat,” he said._

_Her breathing hitched in her throat, and she bit down, worrying her lower lip.  Moving quicker toward her again, he reached down as his hands encircled her waist.  He lowered them, grabbing her ass over her jeans to pick her up as she wrapped her legs around him._

_Unlike a month ago, he wasn’t the one with his back to the wall anymore.  Steve turned them around to push her against the brick, angling her body upward so his face was level with the column of her throat.  He could hear the rasped sounds from her breathing as the swell of her breasts rose with each pant against him._

_Steve’s shirt had risen when he lifted her, causing the flesh of his stomach to be exposed.  She fit perfectly around him as her legs hugged his waist.  God her jeans really were painted on, “Nat, do you know how many times I’ve thought about you like this?”_

_Her jeans acted more as conductor than a layer of clothing right now as she clutched her thighs tighter, strengthening her hold on him.  He could feel the heat from her center transferring against his bare stomach.  God help him because it felt like an electric current went straight to his cock._

_He bore into her luminous stare as his grip tightened around her.  She responded by squeezing even harder, and then began writhing slowly against his hips, causing a guttural sound to escape him and a hardened pressure to form underneath his own pants._

_Natasha grabbed onto what she could as her fingers threaded through his hair, beginning to feel sweat forming on him.  He could feel her humid breathing as she leaned toward him and whispered, “I think I have an idea of how many times, Steve.”  Her tongue traced along his smooth jawline, up to his ear, and he pushed harder into the wall, giving a jolted thrust into her, “Fuck, I can feel how warm you are, Nat.”_

_A whimper broke free from her as she bit down on her bottom lip to find some relief.  Grasping at his shirt, she begged to feel more of him with her hands as her fingers fondled his warm and sweaty skin._

_The feel of her body, the dirty sounds escaping their throats, and the heat between them caused Steve’s jeans to become painfully tight as his mind melted into nothing but unbridled and filthy thoughts._

_Lowering his mouth to the V of her sweater, he kissed between as he could feel her breasts heave and surround him._

_Steve licked a deliberate line along the exposed skin, leaving a trail of fluid behind.  He stopped as he reached her neck, marking her with warm and open kisses under her chin and down the column of her throat._

_Her body was on fire from the feel of his lips so close to her breasts.  She bucked against him and threw her head against the wall, biting hard enough into her lip now that she could start to taste blood.  Moving her hands higher under his shirt, she dug her nails into the meat on his shoulders and whined, “Jesus.  Fuck, Steve.”_

_Steve grunted, hearing her sound as unhinged as he felt, and bit down on her collar bone.  He wanted her as desperately as she wanted him right now.  Rational thought and logic were gone yet again from both of their minds right now._

_If someone was taking notes, this was becoming a pattern._

_But they didn’t notice or think of how this was the third time they found themselves in public, and unable to keep their hands off of each other.  All of the pent-up tension over the last month, mixed with the passion of their fight had caused the inevitable.  An unstoppable force against an immovable object._

_All she could think about was how he surrounded her, and how big and thick he felt under his clothing, and how fucking fantastic he would feel inside of her.  And all he could think about was how he could smell the faint aroma of **her** steeping through her jeans.  Christ, he wanted to taste her.      _

_His nostrils flared at her scent, and he darted his tongue back down the V of exposed flesh.  Lapping up the pool of sweat that had formed between her breasts, he moved one hand away from his grip on her._

_Supporting her with one arm now, his fingers dug into her ass as he shoved harder into the wall to support her as his freed hand moved south._

_He lingered over the button of her jeans as he looked up at her and their breathing increased.  That electricity he felt before that went straight to his dick, was palpable.  Their eyes, their lips, the core of their desire, and every part of them that was touching were like rods of energy, forming a Bermuda triangle of electricity, encircling them in their own little cocoon.  They were only too happy to be lost inside of it right now._

_Lifting her hips toward his hand was magnetic.  She opened her eyes to find him watching her every move.  He smirked at her and she huffed out in frustration, “Fucking tease.”_

_His tongue licked the seam of his lips as his fingers pressed against her zipper.  Steve lifted her ass, thinking of what was underneath, and the cause of the scent and heat between them.  The pressure against his hand increased as he inched downward._

_He pushed his thumb over her jeans, right into her center, feeling that warmth and now dampened feeling.  She whimpered as his eyes stayed on her.  A groan from him followed, “I think you like being teased, Nat.”_

_She let out a frustrating breath as his hand moved away from her arousal and went under her sweater._

_She tried to follow his hand with her hips to keep pressure at her core, but she couldn’t move against his strength.  She squeezed her thighs tighter around him in annoyance, “I think I liked where your hand just was, Steven.”  Competitiveness was seeping into the battle of their desire._

_His fingers trailed up her soft stomach towards her ribs.  He could feel her chest stirring at his touch.  She moved one hand back up to his head, and pulled on his hair as she dug her nails further into his shoulder._

_Finding the edge of the lace fabric, he paused and stared at her.  He could barely see through his hooded eyes and the dim lit alley, but he could feel the material and knew what was underneath.  The fog of sexual chemistry stopped him in his tracks until he heard her again._

_“Steve, touch me…please.”_

_Hearing her gave him all the push he needed, his thumb grazed over the thin material while he held his breath.  Her nipple hardened against his touch, as she pleaded, “Kiss me.”_

_They both needed more.   Lowering her down a little, he found her mouth again.  Kissing each other frantically, their tongues found each other again, transferring hot and wet fluid between each other.  It only made them both think of other hot and wet places between them and how it would feel.  She sucked at his bottom lip, pulling it between her teeth, causing a growl to escape his lips._

_His hand skimmed under the lace.  Grazing against her nipple with his bare skin for the first time, she moaned, “Kiss me, **there**.”_

_“Jesus, Nat.  I want to kiss **every** inch of you.”_

_She helped him lift her sweater as he boosted her higher again, moving closer to the lace covered mounds.  His thumb hooked under the fabric, pulling it completely away and exposing her malleable flesh.  Hovering over her for the skip of a second, he watched as his humid breath covered her skin, causing it to pebble._

_He licked his lips as he heard her plea, “Steve, please.”_

_Her breast was warm as he covered her soft swell of skin with his mouth at first, then narrowing his focus on her nipple._

_A flick of his tongue, a suck of his lips, a graze of his teeth._

_He was inebriated from the sensation.  Each movement against her raised, pink peak made him think of a flick, a suck, and a graze somewhere else on her, and goddamn it, he began to see a little white behind his eyes._

_Drawing in a sharp and labored breath, she tried to find more relief to the pressure building inside of her as her hips fought against his strength, writhing against his waist again._

_Inappropriate was turning into almost obscene.  Uncomfortable was turning into something almost lewd.  They weren’t thinking clearly.  No one ever does, when there is this much passion and intimacy and lust between two individuals.  Sprinkle in their fighting and competitive spirits, the pent-up desire, and throw in a little anger and alcohol, and now you’ve got what they’ve created.  A scene that literally could get them arrested if they continued._

_But, for the third time in a row, their passionate entanglement was interrupted.  The parking lot light flickered, and voices were heard.  Steve lifted his head away from her breast as she stilled her hips and placed her hands on his shoulders._

_“Steve, listen.”_

_The extraction from their shameless and sensual groping officially began as they heard a couple of people talking outside the bar while they smoked a cigarette._

_Natasha reluctantly dropped her legs from his waist and ran her fingers through her hair that was matted at the side and nape of her neck.  She let out a frustrated breath as Steve kissed her forehead, signaling that this wasn’t going to go any further right now._

_Clothing a mess, lips swollen, faces flushed, hair disheveled, and arousals beyond uncomfortable.  They might as well have fucked just then, because all of the evidence made them look like they had._

_Straightening out her bra and sweater, Natasha looked over to her muscular partner in PDA as he was walking back and forth, trying to calm himself down so his erection wasn’t so noticeable anymore.  Taking a couple of deep breaths, Steve pulled his shirt back into place and ran his fingers through his own hair as he said, “We’re going to have to find somewhere private, so we don’t keep getting interrupted.”_

_Natasha laughed quietly, wiping the sweat from her brow as she ran her fingers through her hair again and said, “I don’t think it’s going to be hard to find somewhere more private than an alley, Rogers.”_

_Steve chuckled as he began to feel a little more in control.  Looking a little more presentable…or at least enough to pass in front of intoxicated friends, Natasha walked over to him and pecked his lips with a chaste kiss._

_She grabbed his hands, and spoke with sincerity, rubbing her thumbs over his knuckles, “Steve, I meant what I said before.  I want to tell you everything, and I will.  I promise.”_

_As silly as it seemed, the worry was gone from Steve right now.  She had told him enough tonight.  She took the first steps, and sometimes…most of the time even, those were the hardest.  And right now, she was telling him that there **were** answers to his other questions, she just wasn’t ready to answer them yet.  He could respect that.  _

_He had to respect that, because the last 30 minutes was **so** much more than arousal and lust on display.  It was a culmination of them depriving themselves for the last month, but it was also an effect from their feelings that had formed for one another.  _

_They looked each other over one more time, giving each other’s appearance a nod of approval as he said, “I know Natasha, I’ll wait as long as you need.  Whatever it takes.  And I meant what I just said too.  I want to know all of you, so I can be patient.”_

_“Too patient, Rogers...I can already tell you love being a fucking tease,” she grinned.  He smirked back at her, “You have no idea, Nat.”  They took a few more seconds to calm down as he kissed her on the lips one more time and then walked around the corner._

_They entered the bar again, hand in hand this time.  Enough time passed since they had their fight when Steve stormed out, Natasha chased after, and then they dry humped each other into oblivion in the alley.  Enough time passed that their friends were not tipsy anymore but in fact, drunk.  Enough time passed that no one even noticed they were gone, so no one made a gesture at their return._

_No one that is, except for Bucky._

_He watched as they came into the bar and raised his eyebrow.  He stood up and blocked their way to the bar to have a little fun with them, “You two tussle it out, and kiss and make up?”  They blushed at each other and squeezed their hands as Steve groaned, “Jesus Buck, you can be about as subtle as a jack hammer sometimes.”_

_He winked at them, “That’s why you love me, Steve,” as he walked back to the group._

_Steve and Natasha went up to the bar to get some drinks, together this time, and they enjoyed the rest of their night with their friends._

* * *

**Present Day –**

Wanda met Steve in the hallway and she stopped him, “Steve,” but he cut her off, “Wanda, don’t.  You did great, and you got him ready for me…really.”

Her eyes wrinkled at him, “No, Steve.  You don’t.  You don’t let him get to you.  You know he’s going to bring up Natasha.”

God, it had been awhile since she had said her name out loud to Steve.  It sounded like ice breaking, just as it did when Peter said her name early this morning by accident. 

“Wanda, I can handle this.” She frowned at him as he squeezed her shoulder and went inside. 

It had been a long day already.  The early morning rise and run before their AM meeting.  The mission.  The mess of old partners being thrown back together, forcibly.  The fighting and bickering and conference room.  The trying and trying and _trying_ of each agent to get Loki to talk.     

The afternoon had turned to early evening as Rogers went inside and Wanda returned to the observation room saying to herself, “How can you handle this when we don’t even know what _this_ is?”

* * *

Steve scrubbed is hand over his beard before he opened the door.  He knew what everyone was thinking back in the observation room.  He knew half of them were worried about what memories Loki was going to drudge up, and the other half just thought this wasn’t going to go anywhere because all they thought Loki wanted to do was fuck with them. 

But Steve could see when he watched Wanda and Loki, that she had gotten to him.  A chink in his armor appeared through her conversation with him, and he was prepared to blow a huge hole in it now. 

He knew what Fury had said was right though, his skin is going to have to be awfully thick inside this room once he opens the door.  For some reason, Loki wanted to talk with Steve last, but he was also sure he could use Loki’s arrogance against him.  Steve had been through much worse in his life than being exposed to the prick beyond this metal door.  Much, much worse.  So, whatever he had to say, he was trying to prepare mentally for it. 

He took one last deep breath and opened the door. 

Loki was still off his game from his conversation with Wanda.  She had exposed some harsh truths.  While he shut down and was silent to her at the end, Steve could tell there was an honesty in the pain and loneliness she uncovered for everyone to see.  He lifted his head towards Rogers as the door opened and closed, but he lowered it toward the ground again as Steve sat down at the table across from him.

Who was going to talk first?

Loki had taunted him since they found him sitting in that fucking house.  He clearly wanted this alone time with Steve, but he wasn’t talking.  He was reeling.  Steve could see the way his jaw was clenched that he was mentally on his heels and didn’t have a plan right in this second like he had with everyone else.  His sister-in-law was incredible. 

Steve sat there for two minutes in dead silence, drilling his stare into Loki’s forehead, waiting for him to move first. 

But he didn’t, so Steve leaned forward. 

Steve tapped his knuckles a couple of times on the steel table. 

Loki really was lost in his thoughts because the sound jarred his head upward as his dark eyes finally connected with Steve.  It wasn’t just that the color of his eyes appeared darker than his natural color right now.  It was that his stare was ominous, tapping into something that Steve couldn’t explain.  But it made his spine tingle. 

The observation room was on edge.  Everyone had this feeling in their gut.  They were trained as federal agents and some worked in other branches now, but that feeling of knowing when something was off stuck with them.  Wanda had felt confident when she first left the interrogation room.  But now that her husband had his arm around her shoulder, she just felt like Steve was going to get hurt, and she felt guilty. 

Bucky leaned over to her and whispered, “Don’t worry, Wanda.  Steve is a big boy, and he can handle it.  He might say some awful things, but Loki’s on edge, and Steve will strike.  Just watch...You did great in there.”

Back in the interrogation room, Steve's brow furrowed as he finally spoke, “It’s too bad, Loki.  When I look at you, it would be so easy to just be angry.  And believe me there’s plenty of that to go around.  But everything Wanda said was right.  You could have been a decent Fed with us.  Hell, you _were_ a decent Fed with us for years.” 

Loki lowered his head and stared at his hands as he clasped them together, almost like he was in prayer.  He was still and quiet.

Another two minutes passed in silence.  Steve quirked his eyebrow up at the camera before he spoke again. 

“When you spoke with Wanda, I know you said none of us had been genuine with you.  But Loki, you first met me over 12 years ago now.  Have I ever been dishonest with you?” Steve's question finally caused Loki to lift his head again.  The dark stare had shifted from before.  Steve could tell that he was contemplating his next move before he finally spoke.

“Have you ever been dishonest with me?”  Loki took a few seconds before continuing, “Captain Steven Grant Rogers.  The Military’s finest.  The FBI’s pride and joy.  A man everyone loves to look up to.  A man that can make someone made of stone feel love.” 

The first stab was made from Loki’s words with that innuendo.  The inevitable was going to happen.  Steve knew it.  His stomach was tight, but his resolve was clear.  He could handle this. 

“Loki, you just don’t get it.  Looking up to me?  People looked up to you too.  You were so smart.  So strong in your own areas.  And yeah, I still find it hard to believe that you threw yourself off of that path for a life of meaningless vices,” Steve started before Loki jumped in, “There are a lot of things in life, Steven, that end up being meaningless aren’t there?”

Silence caused the team to have clenched jaws and fists as they listened and watched. 

Another attempt to provoke, but Steve moved past it, “Yeah, you’re still smart, Loki.  You were smart enough to be at the top of our class academically.  And you were smart enough to be a brilliant criminal for years.” 

Loki answered, “Flattery does get you everywhere at times, doesn’t it?  You’re going to have to try a little harder than just batting those pretty blue eyes at me and calling me smart.” 

Steve kept his eye rolling to himself as his throat tightened a little, “Let’s cut the crap here, Loki.  Yeah, you’re smart.  But you turned yourself in, and we all know it.  And we also know that you probably tipped off the NSA, Homeland, and the CIA to bring the team all back under one roof.  So, congratulations.  Everyone is in that room together again because of you.  But please tell me that you’re not dumb enough to have done this all so you could just spit in our faces and try to throw some words at us.” 

Loki un-clasped his hands and pressed them flat against the metal table.  He leaned forward and any sign of vulnerability had washed away.  All that lingered now behind his eyes was anger. 

He looked at Rogers with a scornful smile and said, “Everyone?”

The one-word answer hung heavily in the air, between Loki and Steve, but also between everyone in the observation room.  Fury looked at Banner and Hill.  Tony muttered, “Goddamnit” to Thor and Rhodey.  Wanda exchanged worried glances with Sam and Bucky. 

A flash of anger crossed Steve’s eyes but he took a breath and spoke as low and as calm as he could, “What did you just say?” 

Whatever weakness that was exposed a few minutes ago with Wanda was gone right now.  Loki looked like a Cobra with its hood up, waiting to strike.  There was venom in his tone and there was more where his initial strike came from. 

Loki spoke, “You want to be honest with me, Rogers.  Then let’s be honest.  I was just trying to say that the beady eyes watching us pathetically from the observation room don’t include _everyone._ ” 

Steve’s knuckles turned white in his clenched fists that were on the table, and Loki continued, “Natasha would be so disappointed with your interviewing skills, Steven.” 

Back in the observation room, Bucky had removed his hand from Wanda’s shoulder and started towards the door.  Trying to prepare for the inevitable is one thing, but seeing his brother be put through the type of pain Loki was trying here, was another.  And his brother had been through enough pain.  But Fury stopped him, “Barnes, your brother can handle it.  He has a job to do in there.  Let him do it.”

Steve brought his hands down to his lap when he saw Loki staring at them, clearly seeing how upset he was at Loki’s words. 

Steve whispered in a low, bordering on menacing tone, “Don’t you ever say her name to me.”

“Ah, there you are.  There’s my hulk,” he answered.

He waited a few seconds before continuing, seeing their roles reversed from when Steve first entered the room.  Rogers was the one looking down at the ground now as Loki continued, “I love it when you show your darker side, Steven.  Let’s play a game of how dark can you go?  I bet you’ll find that when pressed, you and I aren’t so different.  That when given options, there are no lines you aren’t willing to cross.”

Steve tried.  He really did.  He tried to push away from where his thoughts were going, away from the horrors in his mind as he said, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Loki’s eyes narrowed, “Oh, but I’m the only one here who does, Captain.  Aren’t you a little bit curious as to why I would bring up Natasha?” 

The observation room was frantic at this point.  Wanda looked over at Fury and said, “Nick.  This is going to go off the rails very quickly.  We need to get Steve out now.” 

But the train had already de-railed.

Steve felt the tingling in his spine rise up his back and into his throat as his thoughts became less rational and blunter.  He swore he could see a little red as he said louder, “I told you, don’t you dare say her name.”  Loki leaned into his words, now squinting, “You know the Greek story of Odysseus and the Trojan Horse?”

Steve looked back at him as Loki continued, “I can’t help recall that story when I think of Dear _Natasha_ …Odysseus at first glance was a noble warrior.  A hero to his kingdom.  But when you look beneath the surface, he was the most deceptive, the most cunning, the biggest liar and killer of them all.  He crafted the idea of the Trojan horse to deceive a world that was similar to his own, under the guise of peace and respect and love, all to be revealed as the key to taking his enemies down, by betrayal…sound familiar?”

Steve’s voice grew even louder, “Loki, I’m going to make you wish you were in Stark’s possession.” 

Testing his patience, Loki grinned and tapped his fingers on the table for a moment, “Maybe a more appropriate comparison for you and Red would be the Siren.  Sailors who encountered the Siren were tempted and lured in by beauty and sultry sounds, and then all was lost as their sanity was devoured by the creature’s true nature…Yes, I think that is much more fitting.” 

Steve reached forward and grabbed the chain that connected Loki’s hands to the table.  He pulled it tight so Loki’s wrists crashed against the metal, causing him to wince. 

Loki had Steve mentally backed up against a wall, and he wanted to go in for the kill. 

“My goodness, Steven.  Are you rough and rowdy like this all the time?  Sign me up for a romp with that guy…But wow, I can’t believe my manners.  Here we’ve been spending all this time together, catching up on old friends and old flames, and I haven’t even asked…How have you been doing the last year and a half?”

Stark noticed a bead of sweat rolling down Bucky’s face and asked him, “What the hell is going on in there, Barnes?”  James looked to Wanda, and both of them said at the same time, “Oh God.”

Steve was backed into a corner, and all of a sudden everything came rushing back.  He could feel the tears welling up.  He shut his eyes tight as he let go of the chain and looked away.  Thinking about what Loki could possibly have said to provoke him versus being right in the middle of this room, suffocating with nowhere to go, was entirely different.  Steve was in quicksand and he was sinking into the darkness that had consumed him for a long period of time. 

He heard Loki’s voice break through the darkness, “You know, Steve _._ I worked harder than I have in a long time from the outside, trying to figure out what happened to you over the last few years.  I mean, you’ve always been intense, but something changed in you drastically after everything that happened with Natasha.  And then you received those pictures in the mail 18 months ago…”

Tears were leaking out of Steve’s tightly shut eyelids.  His face was reddened, and Loki could see a vein emerging on his neck from the strain. 

“Fuck,” Sam said.  He stared at Bucky, Banner, and Wanda.  Wanda was wiping her eyes already and Bucky mirrored Steve almost in the room, with glassy eyes, a red face and veins ready to pop out of his arms and neck.  Fury was about to tell them to cut it when the non-FBI agents started asking a slew of questions. 

“What is he talking about, Fury?” Thor demanded as he looked between the monitor and the room.

Stark turned to Rhodey who shook his head in confusion too, and then asked Bucky, “Barnes, what the hell is going on.  What is Loki talking about?  What pictures?”

Worry matched the tension in the room and after a few seconds of silence, Wanda spoke with a shaky breath, “The pictures were of Natasha...Steve was sent pictures of Natasha.” 

* * *

 ** _18 Months Ago –_** _FBI HQ_

_Bucky entered the conference room with his wife in the New York Office (NYO) and said to their team, “Good morning Sam, morning Banner, morning Fury.  It looks like a beautiful day to catch criminals, doesn’t it?”_

_Wanda gave him a joking glare as Banner asked, “What’s got you so chipper, Bucky?  I have never known you to be a morning person.”  He grinned as Fury’s head was buried in a folder, preparing for their briefing that everyone was gathering for._

_Wanda answered Bruce, “What’s got him so chipper Bruce, is that he slept like a rock last night, and Peter was up off and on.  So, one of us had over seven hours of sleep, and one of **us** is going on fumes and coffee…I’ll let you determine which one is which.”_

_Bucky grabbed Wanda quick and kissed her head, whispering, “I promise, you get to sleep the next three nights.”  She rolled her eyes at him but still smiled.  “You’re too good to him, Wanda,” Sam added.  They continued joking around as they had their coffees while they waited for Steve to join.  It had been a couple of mild weeks with cases, and people’s stress levels were actually at an all-time low, with office work at least._

_Steve entered the room and mumbled, “Morning everyone,” as he put his coffee and the mail from his inbox on the table.  Bucky noticed how Steve seemed agitated again, like he had over the last few months.  His eyes were dark above his beard and he looked like he hadn’t rested well in a long, long time.  They hadn’t been around each other that much outside of work lately.  Wanda and Bucky were constantly busy with Peter being a toddler.  And Steve, well…he was all too compliant to spend time on his own.  Wanda even said something to him last night about making sure Steve comes over to their apartment soon._

_Steve added in a gruff tone, “Let’s see if we can actually do a little work today and catch a few criminals instead of just sitting around here and letting them run rampant.”  He had never been good with down time, but this was not a way to start the day.  Bruce and Sam exchanged glances and Fury even raised his eyebrow at Rogers’ tone.  It wasn’t even 8:00 am yet._

_Bucky tried to lighten the tone as he sat by his brother, “Steve, may I recommend a mood relaxer with your coffee?”  Steve stared at Bucky, causing his brother to look back at his wife with wide eyes, communicating silently, ‘Well he’s sure in a worse mood than usual today.’_

_Fury started going through the morning rundown and updating everyone on their cases.  Banner chimed in first, then Sam, Wanda and Bucky all followed.  Each of them giving their updates on cases and criminals on their radar.  When it came time for Steve to speak, silence met everyone’s ears._

_Wanda gripped Bucky’s arm tightly as she looked at Steve.  Bruce’s brow furrowed as he looked at Sam as they noticed Steve’s face.  His eyes narrowed at an envelope he had in his hand that was included in his office mail.  He instantly looked worried.  Extremely worried._

_“What is it Steve?” Sam asked.  “What is that?  What do you have there?” Bucky quickly added._

_Steve stared at the envelope for a few seconds before he slowly ran his fingers over the front of it, trying to feel what was inside.  When he turned it over to look at the back and do the same thing, Bucky noticed what it said on the front, ‘Consequences.’_

_Bucky’s stomach filled with dread when he read those words and looked back at his wife.  Somehow, Wanda didn’t need to see the actual next minutes unfold.  Her intuition was screaming inside of her that this had something to do with Natasha.  Her eyes started burning as she looked at James and then back to Steve._

_Something horrible was about to happen._

_Her intuition was spot on as usual.  There was only one thing, or one **person** actually, that could cause Steve to look so concerned.  That person was Natasha, and everyone in the room knew it.  _

_The silence continued and Banner could hear Sam breathing next to him.  They looked at each other with troubled expressions.  Fury was watching now and had closed the folder he had been reading.  He’d been in the business long enough to know that nothing good was inside of that envelope._

_Fury even started to stand up, with the hopes that he could reach it in time before Steve could open it.  But he was too late.  Instead, he heard the flap opening on the back of the envelope.  He watched everyone filled with worry, as their eyes darted around the room to each other, and back to Steve who wasn’t looking at anyone, and finally landing on that goddamn envelope._

_The next sound Bucky heard, was next to him - Steve exhaling loudly in a shaky breath as he pulled out the contents inside._

_What happened next would vividly burn into everyone’s memory for the coming months._

_Wanda saw the agitation and worry disappear from Steve’s face as fear and shock filled it.  She heard the panic in his voice as he let out a loud gasp and then three words, “Natasha?  Baby?  Nat?”_

_Those three words would change everyone in that room’s lives forever because of what followed._

_Bucky looked at his brother’s eyes as they filled with tears that started streaming down his face uncontrollably.  Steve’s face became ashen, and his hands started to tremble.  Bucky looked back to Wanda and they both had tears forming in each other’s eyes even though they couldn’t see the contents of the envelope yet._

_The team knew that only something horrifying could provoke a reaction like this from Steve.  Whatever had happened between all the Quantico trainees over the years, and despite all the lies that had been told, no one in the room wanted Steve to suffer more than he already had.  They could never dream that his suffering in the past was only the beginning._

_The next thing Bucky heard was Steve screaming a grating sound, “Noooooooo!”  His shaky hands dropped the envelope, causing a couple of the pictures to separate, so they could be seen around the table._

_Everyone caught a quick glimpse of what Steve had seen and reacted immediately.  Bucky and Sam gasped, and Wanda screamed, “No!”_

_Fury and Banner both raised their hands to their mouths.  They all circled around Steve and tried to stop him from picking up the photos again, but they couldn’t.  He grabbed the pictures and started flipping through them rapidly as if he thought he could see something different or make the images change before him._

_He couldn’t._

_They were the same gruesome images he had just looked at.  Steve’s hands began shaking so badly that he couldn’t hold onto them any longer.  They fell to the table in a scattered pattern, matching Steve’s shattered state of mind.  Everyone finally saw the rest of what Steve had been looking at._

_The team stared at multiple images of Natasha Romanoff and her lifeless body.  It looked like she was shot in the middle of the chest several times, and blood had pooled all around her body and her head.  Bucky looked at her eyes in the photos and saw everyone else looking at them too._

_Her eyes were still open and filled with fear, but lifeless.  All Bucky could think was how her eyes were frozen like that, forever.  He wiped tears away that he didn’t even realize were falling. and he heard his wife crying into Sam’s shoulder.  Banner and Fury had their arms each other’s shoulders and hands over their mouths, as Steve broke through the fog in the room with a guttural sound._

_No words escaped him, just a bellowing sound that was filled with a sob and scream._

_Wanda left Sam’s arms and went to Steve with Bucky to encircle him with their embrace.  Fury quickly grabbed the photos and placed them in a plastic evidence bag to process as everyone else continued to comfort their lead agent, brother, and friend._

_Steve crumbled before them in more ways than one as he cried in his brother and sister-in-law’s arms for what seemed like an indefinite amount of time.  It was long enough that the offices outside of their meeting room had started to fill up, causing Fury to close the blinds as other agents tried to figure out what was going on._

_Wanda broke through her tears and said, “Steven, listen to me.  We need to take a breath.  We don’t know if they’re real.”  Steve whispered, “It’s real.  They’re real.”  Everyone looked around the room at each other again and Bucky asked, “Steve, Wanda is right.  How can you know?”_

_Steve looked up to his brother with bloodshot eyes and said, “The envelope said ‘Consequences.’  And because I know what her eyes look like.  I know her face so well.  I know every part of her, and there’s nothing behind her eyes in those pictures.”  Everything he just saw came surging back in his mind, and his voice collapsed into sobs again as he fell into his brother’s arms once more._

* * *

**Present Day –**

Fury snapped Bucky back to the present from his memory as he asked, “How the hell does Loki know about those pictures?” 

Stark and Rhodey looked white in the face as the rest of the team started to remember what had happened 18 months ago, just like Bucky had.  Maria looked like she could be ill and asked, “Steve saw pictures of Natasha’s body?  Oh my God.  We all knew she was gone but…how come you never told me, Wanda?”

Wanda felt the pain in her memories return.  She was the more level headed one of her team a lot of the time, especially when it came to her and her husband.  But right now, she was filled with the painful memories, and knowing that the current FBI team was there for Steve because they didn’t leave the FBI, only flamed that pain inside of her. 

She looked towards Stark, Maria, Thor, and Rhodey and snapped at them, “Steve’s _family_ knew.”

Sam quickly added, “Why do you even care, _Maria?_   The four of you were long gone from here then.”

Maria flinched from the sting of Wanda and Sam’s words and didn’t respond.

Fury broke through and said, “Goddamnit.  We need to stop this now.  Sam, Bucky, go get Rogers before he kills Loki.”  Everyone’s eyes returned to the monitor as Sam and Bucky ran out the door.

Steve’s vein was only the symptom of his anger.  The rage inside of him caused him to stop thinking about anything at all except for those horrible images and the last look he ever saw on Natasha’s face, as it was frozen in fear forever.  He yelled across the table, “She’s not here, Loki.  She’s dead!” 

Loki leaned back as far as he could and quietly said, “Yes, she is, and I know you blame yourself.” 

Steve didn’t say anything further.  He yelled as he stood up and circled the table, throwing his right fist into Loki’s face, repeatedly.  Loki wasn’t able to move because his hands were still attached to the cuffs.  He was able to stand though.  He moved, so his back faced the camera and window in the room.  His hands stretched back toward the table awkwardly, but he was able to get close enough to Steve when he stopped hitting his face for a moment. 

Steve was about to punch him again as Loki spoke quietly into his ear, “I’ll tell you a secret, Steven…about those consequences.”  He froze. 

Steve couldn’t get the images out of his head right now.  It was the darkest time in his life.  His world collapsed and he had tormented himself daily after that.  Eventually, as people around him expected some of the grief to diminish, he started putting a mask up for everyone publicly as he immersed himself in his work.  Besides his brother, sister-in-law, nephew, and team, he had no social contact with the outside world. 

Even the social events Steve did eventually participate in, for work or his family, were only to make them all stop asking how he was doing.  Privately though, he felt empty and almost dead inside.  It was at that time, that the weather beacon outside his apartment started haunting him.   

Steve was in a fog, seeing red as he stood there frozen, listening to Loki.  Loki said, “You never disappoint me, Rogers.  Come closer soldier, and I’ll tell you something more.” 

A rational minded Steve would never be bated like this, but he had no control over his legs at the moment.  Natasha was his Achilles heel.  Steve moved towards Loki as he spoke again, “Shhh, down here.  We can’t let the peanut gallery hear.”  He pointed to his mouth, and Steve leaned over to hear his whisper. 

Sam and Bucky were frantic as they put the key into the lock.  They saw Steve lean into Loki through the window as he whispered into Rogers’s ear.  The others in the observation room couldn’t hear anything Loki was saying but were just as wide-eyed.  Sam and Bucky watched as Steve’s eyes shot open, and his face went from red to colorless as he listened to what Loki was telling him. 

Things happened rapidly next.

Sam and Bucky opened up the door.  They saw Rogers look at Loki, and Loki nod once at him, confirming what he just said in his ear.  They looked at Rogers’s face again, and he looked desperate, frantic, panicked, and distraught.  Any of the words applied, but one of them didn’t add to the whole of Steve’s entire appearance.  Just as they were about to grab him from the room, Steve bolted from his spot by Loki and plowed through the middle of them.

They both yelled, “Hey,” and rubbed their shoulders from the contact.  They quickly locked the room as Loki retrieved his chair and sat back down, looking in complete control.

Sam and Bucky tried to run after Steve and yelled at him, “Wait…Steve, stop and wait for us,” but he didn’t listen to them.  He sprinted by the observation room, down the hallway, through the office area, and to the locker room.  They got to the locker room to see Rogers retrieving his wallet, keys, and gun as he slammed his locker shut and turned around to run by them again.  They yelled at him again to stop, but he ran out of the room and toward the elevator.

They tried to catch him before he closed the elevator doors, but they were too late.  Bucky looked at Sam, and they ran back to the locker room.  They opened his locker up and noticed he left his badge on the top shelf, and they exchanged worried looks. 

Steve left the elevator and ran through the lobby of HQ to the parking garage.  He got in the driver’s seat of his SUV and peeled out of the parking area.  His mind raced to the last time he saw Natasha two years ago, and what her last words were to him, _‘Steve, it’s over, this is the last time…Goodbye.’_

Natasha’s last words and the image of the tears in her eyes at that moment played on repeat in his mind.  He thought again of what Loki had just whispered to him, _‘I’ll tell you a secret.  I estimate you have about six hours to retrieve your Natasha before it really is too late.  Only you know where she is, because only you know where you were with her two years ago.’_

He finally took a deep breath and screamed in his car as tears streamed down his cheeks.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a little different pattern this chapter. Plot, reveals, twists, and yes smut will be ramping up in coming chapters as well. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this one and the image board below! Thanks so much for the support and encouragement! I love hearing from any of the readers following along with this crazy AU fic, so let me know your thougths, or come follow me on Tumblr @eightieskat if you'd like to chat about anything with the story, Marvel, or anything else. 
> 
> Cheers!~~Kat


	8. Down the Rabbit Hole

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy this chapter and the image board below! 
> 
> Thanks so much for the kind support and encouragement. It really means so much, and I just appreciate all of it. 
> 
> I love hearing from any of the readers, so let me know your thougths, or come follow me on Tumblr @eightieskat if you'd like to chat about anything with the story, Marvel, or anything else. Have a wonderful day!
> 
> Cheers!~~Kat

Memories & Reality

I do not own any of this or any part of Marvel or the MCU

Chapter 8 – Down the Rabbit Hole

* * *

**_12 Years Ago –_ **

_Natasha and Steve were standing outside of the dorms._

_Buzzed but not drunk from their evening, they were holding hands as a blush crept up their cheeks. Of course, they couldn’t get their minds off of their ‘kiss and make-up’ session, that almost went into NC-17 territory earlier in the evening.  But it was more than that._

_The steps towards trust.  Steve being able to air his grievances.  Natasha actually opening up, as small of a step as it may have seemed on paper.  Being around their friends and feeling like part of the group._

_All of it caused something to happen throughout the course of the evening.  A tipping point was reached that had really been building since they first met.  Natasha and Steve weren’t yet an official couple or anything, but they had undeniably crossed the line beyond friendship, into the space of ‘something more’ tonight.  And they both felt…relieved, but kept that feeling to themselves.  Instead, they settled for quick and nervous glances towards each other, making them look like a teenage couple in a state of bliss, on the cusp of falling in love._

_Of course, it wasn’t that simple, but right now it felt that way, getting lost in the moment.  And the fact they felt…not drunk, but not quite sober, only helped.  That is, until the moment was overcome with the shenanigans of their **very** drunk friends, trying to make their way inside the buildings.  _

_Tony, Rhodey, and Bruce were helping Thor inside because he couldn’t walk straight.  “Good men, I can reach my chambers on my own,” Thor bellowed as they prevented him from tripping on the stairs.   “Chambers, huh?  You know, you become very theatrical when you’re drunk, man…did you used to participate in Shakespeare in the Park, Thor?” Tony quipped._

_Loki and Maria were dancing and singing along to a song that had been playing in their cab.  And Wanda…well, those shots she did earlier in the evening were rearing their ugly head.  The cabbie was yelling at her to get out.  Steve and Natasha saw why as she opened the door to the car, literally crawled over to the curb, and threw up on the ground.  Sam paid the driver as he sped off._

_Bucky tried to reach down to rub her shoulders and hold her hair back, but she still pushed him away.  Hiccupping and slurring her words, she said, “Jaames, don’t think because you convinced me to dance one time, it changes anything.”_

_“Awww, come on Babe.  Let me help you,” Bucky pleaded as he stumbled over his own words and his feet, sitting down on the ground involuntarily now.  Wanda wiped her mouth and started laughing through her hiccups, “Oh James, you had two feet left while we danced too.”_

_“You mean two left feet, Babe,” Bucky grinned looking over at her.  Wanda rolled her eyes, but reached out her hand to help them both stand up.  He pulled her over to his lap instead, “Come on Wanda, when are you going to give me a chance.”  She hit his chest as she tried to squirm away, “I’m not your Babe, Scoundrelll,” were the only words she got out before she was leaning over, away from him to throw up again._

_Bucky, as drunk as he was, really did look concerned, but Maria and Loki came over to help Wanda get up off of him.  “Come on Wanda, let’s get you settled in for the night.  You’re going to have a rough day tomorrow,” Maria said._

_They lifted her between their arms as Loki said to Bucky, “You know Barnes, I’ll give you this - Wanda is obviously light years out of your league, considering you’re basically a caveman.  But you are persistent.  I’ll give you credit for getting her to dance with you…I can’t say I blame her though.”_

_He was grinning, jokingly giving Barnes a hard time and decided to go a little further, “If you ever get tired of her refusals, know you’ll have an affirmative from me.  All you need to do is ask.”_

_Bucky craned his head up at Loki, blushing with embarrassment as Maria yelled, “Loki, you can’t do that…Barnes is drunk enough he’s going to think you’re serious,” as they finally got Wanda in the building._

_Sam was **dying** from laughter at the site.  Bucky was sitting on the ground, next to Wanda’s vomit after getting turned down from her yet again, and then was hit on (semi-jokingly) by Loki.  Sam, being the good friend that he was, was absolutely reeling, “Hey Buck, look at it this way, you can just trade in one smarty-pants for the other…” Sam snorted._

_“I hate you,” Bucky groaned.  Sam helped him up as they both nodded to the last two people standing outside as they entered the building._

_So, while Natasha and Steve may have been in a blissful haze, even that scene was enough to make them laugh, “Wow,” Natasha said.  “Yeah, my brother is a real Casanova, huh?” Steve grinned._

_“Speaking of Casanova,” Natasha said before she turned to Steve as they instantly found each other’s lips again for a lengthy kiss.  It wasn’t filled with desperation or urgency right now, but it was somehow more intimate as their comfort with each was at an all-time high.  She broke away, resting her forehead on his broad chest as a grin crept up her face.  His muscular arms surrounded her body, while he rubbed small circles on her back._

_Natasha had never been so happy to have a single room at the Academy._

_She hummed before she asked, “Do you want to come up to my room with me, Steve?”  He looked at her questioningly.  Remembering how heated and close to doing something completely obscene they were earlier in the evening, his face reddened.  “Hey soldier, no pressure.  I just meant I’m not tired, and I’m not ready to say goodnight,” she added._

_Steve’s lips curved as he kissed her hair, “Yeah Nat…I’m not ready to say goodnight either.  Let’s go.”_

_Understanding they felt a deeper connection well beyond anything physical, they went through the door as Steve was pulled up the stairs to her bedroom._

* * *

_“Hey Natasha, I’ve been meaning to ask.  How come you have your own room, anyway?  Special request or special requirement?” Steve asked.  Natasha smirked and answered, “Neither.  Odd person out I guess.  Fury said I was a late addition, and there were an odd number of females.  So, I got my own room.”  Steve nodded and said, “Lucky you.”_

_He paused and thought about what he wanted to say next before continuing._

_This wasn’t like before.  They weren’t coming off of a fight.  Instead, it seemed like they had all the time in the world right now to just…be.  The organic ease that encircled them was almost alarming.  It wasn’t just physical attraction and chemistry in the air._

_It was again, something more._

_Steve, brushed his thumb along her cheek, “Nat, I want you to know I have no expectations here.  I mean, I know from before…at the bar…that we obviously want something to happen, that way.  But, you mean so much more to me than that.”_

_“Why Rogers, are you trying to tell me you don’t want to finish what we started a few hours ago?” Natasha flirted.  She was trying to add a little levity to that ‘something more,’ in the air, but it fell flat._

_He looked right at her and spoke clearly, “I’m trying to tell you I definitely want to finish what we started, but even more than that, I want you to trust me…fully.  So, I’ll wait as long as it takes for both.  I want it to be right.  I’m not going anywhere, Natasha.”_

_Yeah it was definitely something more, both of them were feeling.  There was a warmth inside of her, not from desire, but something she wouldn’t even dare try to label right now.  Her heart was beating as she stared at him, and it was like she was looking inside of him with how their eyes connected._

_Steve forgave her for being dishonest, more than once.  He told her he would wait for her, and he didn’t mean in just a physical sense.  He meant he was going to wait for her to open up to him emotionally, as long as it took.  He was such a remarkable man to her, not expecting anything, while still wanting everything physical and beyond.  And all of this was realized internally because she finally took a step forward, toward trust…toward him.  Toward the idea of **them**.  _

_Feeling out of her element as a smile spread from her lips, Natasha knew she was in unchartered waters.  She knew she never thought it was possible to feel this way.  And she also knew, there was no going back, now that these new possibilities were in her life._

_That warmth grew inside of her as she leaned up to kiss him gently on the lips.  He responded in kind as he held her close until she laced her fingers in his, pulling him across her small room to the bed._

_Natasha and Steve took off their shoes, and she reached into her minifridge to grab them some water.  They took a couple of ibuprofen too, hoping to prevent any sign of a hangover in the morning.  They didn’t know if they could avoid it all together, but they would be in better condition than their friends, especially Wanda and Thor._

_She crisscrossed her legs and sat on one end of the bed with her left side to the wall, peering out the window.  He copied her, only sitting opposite, so their bodies were facing each other as they looked at the moon and stars._

_Steve appreciated the view outside the window, but when he looked back at Natasha, he couldn’t help but gape.  He’d seen many different expressions on her over the last month, at times manifesting something he couldn’t quite identify over the last month.   Of course there was her battle with Melinda May when she was furious, but she looked aged well beyond 22.  Then there were other times when she looked so much younger…and innocent, like when he caught her staring off into the sky, or drifting off into a daydream._

_Right now though, she seemed lost, as he watched the smile fade from her face.  There was no other way to describe it.  The way she gleamed at the stars, she seemed so small and absent.  Just like earlier tonight when he saw her lip tremble and hands start to shake, his heart wrenched for her, even though he had no idea why.  What he did realize was his captivation could cause him to sit here and watch her for hours._

_Which is why he was surprised when she started speaking._

_Those unchartered waters Natasha was swimming in, churned both exhilarating and troubling thoughts in her at the same time.  She knew she had to tell him more._

_“Have you ever heard that expression, a journey of 1,000 miles begins with a single step?” She didn’t look at him when she said it, so he had a hunch she didn’t really expect an answer.  Instead he just extended one of his legs so it rested next to her knee, showing he was right here._

_They sat there in silence as she continued to look outside for a few minutes.  It wasn’t until he saw her face scrunch up with worry that he said, “Nat, I’m here.”_

_Natasha turned toward him finally.  There was no mistaking fear in someone’s eyes.  He’d seen it hundreds of times in fellow soldier’s eyes in the Army.  He’d seen it in his mother’s, Bucky’s, and his own   eyes growing up when his father was violent.  She shut them for a moment, almost like she was speaking to herself.  And then before another second passed, she took a deep breath, inhaling some courage, and spoke again._

_“Steve, I want to tell you so much, but I don’t even know how or where to begin.”_

_His heart thudded in his chest as she opened her eyes to look at him, “Natasha, just start where you can.  The rest will follow…That’s what we’ve been doing since day one.”_

_Silence lingered again for a moment, and he reached over with his hand to find hers.  He brushed over her knuckles with his thumb, “I know for whatever reason, it was hard for you to tell me that Clint was your brother.  I also know I heard pain in your voice when you talked about him earlier.  So, if you’re not ready, you don’t have to tell me anything more tonight.  I’ll say it again.  I’m not going anywhere.”_

_She took a drink of her water that was in her lap and leaned her head against the wall again.  Her eyes dropped, “Steve, I’m glad I told you, but I shouldn’t have.  I’m scared to tell you anything else.”_

_There it was again.  Fear.  His hand tightened around hers, “Natasha, I know it’s hard to let people in.”_

_She cut him off.  Not in a curt way, but resolute and definitive.  “Steve, it’s not about walls and letting people in.  You were inside mine from day one.  I told you that.  It’s about you knowing too much already.”  After a few heavy seconds, she finished, “It’s about me being scared of what they’ll do to us.”_

_Steve felt his stomach drop.  It felt like the bed was shifting beneath them with the weight of that ominous statement.   A surge of protective anger rose within him, “Who will do **what** to us?”  _

_Natasha just shook her head as her eyes narrowed in distress, “Natasha why are you scared?  Is it your brother?  Did he threaten you?”_

_“No!”_

_Her defensive answer caused him to flinch with surprise as she continued, “Steve, Clint would never hurt me.  I mean, he might hurt you if he ever thought you did anything to me.  But no, it’s not Clint.  He would do absolutely anything to protect me.”_

_Reaching over, Steve held both of her hands in his now as he scooted closer to her.  All he wanted to do was convey a sense of security and safety, “Natasha, you have to be the toughest female here.  You can kick most people’s ass with moves I’ve never even seen, so you’re really worrying me.  Who are you frightened of?”_

_“Steve, I can’t.”_

_Steve knew he told her she didn’t have to tell him anything further tonight, but she was afraid.  Genuinely afraid, and that scared him.  He wanted to protect her, so to hell with his patience and waiting as long as it took, “Natasha, you can trust me.  I promise.”_

_He could see the teeter tottering battle going on, inside her brain right now.  Her brow was furrowed and she kept worrying her lower lip between her teeth.  Finally, after another minute, she looked back to the window and let out a reluctant sigh of defeat._

_If she was going to tell him anything, she couldn’t look at him.  She had to focus on something neutral…something that could help keep her emotions in check.  A problem she was reminded again, she didn’t have before she met Steve._

_Steve’s mind was racing at what she could possibly be thinking.  Before he could voice another plea to her, she finally spoke._

_Unchartered waters…no going back._

_“I know you trust me enough to share your past with me…about how abusive your Dad was, Steven.  The emotional scars he left on you are unthinkable, and I’m so sorry for what you and Bucky have been through…with both of your fathers.  I think that’s why you and I connected right away.  We’re both tortured souls of sorts, from broken families.  We both had to grow up without knowing what it meant to have a real fathers’ love and compassion.  We were both failed by people that brought us into the world.  The only difference is that unlike you, I didn’t have the saving grace of a Sarah in my life.  She sounds like an incredible woman, Steve…unlike my birth mother who failed me as much as my father did.”_

_Steve watched her every move as she looked out the window.  He thought she had trauma, and possibly some sort of abuse in her background.  She even hinted a couple of times about how lucky he and Bucky were to have a person like Sarah in their lives.  But Nat never shared anything like what she just said._

_He felt like this was just the tip of the iceberg as he squeezed her hands, moving a little closer to her._

_Natasha knew she was about to go down a rabbit hole that she wouldn’t be able to crawl out of.  But, now that she’d started talking, she didn’t want to stop.  The truth was she wanted Steve to know._

_“Steve, you’ve told me before tonight that the horrors from your father were vastly outweighed by the cherished memories with your mother…You don’t know how lucky you are to have been saved by her.  Because what you also don’t know about me is that my brother and I were robbed of any chance of happy memories from our birth parents.”_

_There was nothing to say, so Steve just listened as she continued, “This is so hard to explain to someone who was born in America, but Clint and I were born in the Soviet Union.  Our birth parents didn’t keep company with good people, which actually wasn’t that abnormal, given the state of the USSR when we were born.  They tried to escape a crooked system when Clint was born, but they knew they would have to leave the country to do so.  They didn’t…They chose to stay.  Clint was five when I was born, and he had already suffered so much…I wish I could tell you our early years only consisted of normal, tragic circumstances - scarce resources, poverty, hunger, and abusive parents.  But I can’t.”_

_She took a second to shut her eyes, “A Soviet program that started under Stalin’s rule long ago, had different plans for children like us.  For children who were vulnerable.  It was well hidden from the world but supported by very powerful people within the country.  The program ‘collected’ native-born children, ripe for the picking, to help protect their overall goal - securing the USSR’s future…Lucky us.  We were poor with awful parents, so we were chosen.”_

_Natasha opened her eyes and glanced at Steve, who was frozen with so many emotions on his face.  Worry, fear, shock, and something deeper.  She pulled her hands away from his so she could hold them together in her lap.  Steve let her draw inward.  He knew it’s what she needed in the moment, but it didn’t stop him from moving his hands to her knees to show he was still here._

_She looked back to the window, “I was born with the birth name of Yelena Natalia Romanova in 1985.  Clint, whose birth name was Francisco Ronin Romanova, is a year older than you and was born in 1980. **They** came in ’87.”_

_A chill ran down Steve’s spine when she said, ‘They.’_

_“You would think I wouldn’t be able to remember anything at the age of two, but I guess traumatic memories can sear into your brain…My only memory of my birth parents is my mother wiping a single tear as she turned away from us on her last day with Clint and me.  My father was counting his money from his payment as Clint and I were ‘collected.’  Clint always told me that I’m lucky to not have remembered more.”_

_Steve didn’t know what was worse.  The horrific story he’s heard so far, that was Natasha’s truth, or the fact that he knew she had so much more to tell._

_He rubbed his thumbs along her knees and tried to hold himself together as Natasha took a drink of water, “As we grew up, we were told we were part of a greater good for the USSR.  What I found out as an early teenager though, was that the birth parents in the system had a choice.  They could choose to keep their children, start over somewhere else, and be exiled from the Soviet Union forever.  Or, they could choose to pledge their allegiance to the hammer and sickle flag.  The allegiance of the chosen families came with a ‘conditions’ though – to give up their children for a monetary value to help secure the future.”_

_Her forehead creased and her body tensed as Steve looked on, feeling disturbed.  She said, “You can guess what our parents’ choice was.  They gave us away and chose to stay.  They didn’t even try to fight for us.  That’s a nice sadistic cherry on top, isn’t it?”_

_“Natasha,” Steve said with reverence as he squeezed her knees._

_Natasha shook her head at his voice, “Let me keep going Steve, otherwise I might not ever get it out.  And I want to tell you.  Now that I’ve started…I want to tell you everything.”_

_Their eyes met, and Steve couldn’t stop his from welling up any longer, but he sat still because he didn’t want to move his hands away from her, so he just nodded at her to keep going, “They kept Clint and me together.  We were moved to an orphanage.  Or at least that’s what it was under the disguise of.”_

_Her tone became more spiteful, “Steve, it wasn’t just an orphanage.  It was filled with children given away by parents, who didn’t fight for them – who essentially sold their children into slavery.  It was a training camp to form children into military weapons, eventually making them into Soviet spies.  30 of us were in our ‘camp.’  The goal was to learn weapons, combat and tactical skills, and **everything** else needed to become an effective spy.  Nice subjects instead of reading, writing, and arithmetic, right?  I mean, we learned those things too.  They needed their children’s army to be smart and skilled.”  _

_Steve’s chest tightened, and he felt his eyes brim as a couple of tears finally fell, “For four years after we arrived, we trained, we learned how to fight, we learned to not trust anyone…And then, the Soviet Union collapsed under Gorbachev."_

_Thinking back to history, Steve asked, “And in 1991, after the Soviet Union fell?”  She swallowed, exhaling shakily, “The cover story was that we were adopted all over the world by loving families, wanting to build stronger relationships with Russia.”_

_“And the real story?” Steve asked hesitantly._

_Natasha shook her head, “The program went underground, but it didn’t die.  Former Soviet spies, who were now Russian operatives, had infiltrated countries across the world.  They became citizens and respected community members where they lived.  They blended in and earned the trust of their neighbors and co-workers by day.  And at night, they worked to secure the program.  The spies ‘adopted’ the children from these training camps and integrated them into the countries as citizens, continuing their training and teaching them how to lead double lives.”_

_“We were sent here, to America, and we officially became Clint and Natasha Romanoff.  Our adopted parents, or ‘handlers,’ got us when I was six and Clint was eleven.  They kept us together because Clint and I showed signs of ‘unwillingness’ to participate when separated.”_

_She had a hint of a smile when she said the word, unwillingness.  It made Steve smirk even though his heart hurt.  He pictured a not even ten-years old, fiery red head, being just as stubborn as she was now._

_“For the rest of our upbringing, our handlers raised us as American citizens, but we were forced to stay on the path to becoming soldiers and spies, and forced to do unthinkable things.  I think because Clint was five years older than me, and he remembered so much of his abuse, he never actually struggled with his allegiance to our motherland.  Struggle with his anger?  Yes, but he had me in his life and that was all that mattered.”_

_Steve watched her, with his brow furrowed and eyes burning.  The truth was he was in unchartered waters right now too.  He didn’t know what she was going to say next.  He’d be lying if he didn’t admit he was worried.  But what he also knew was how deep his feelings ran for this woman already, “And what about you, Natasha…where is your allegiance?”_

_It’s like she knew the question was coming, “You can probably tell I’ve never been one to just shut up and be compliant.  Maybe it’s because I literally had five less years of abuse in my life than my brother.  Or maybe it’s because I had the love of Clint to rely on, when he had nothing as a baby and toddler.  Or **maybe** , it was because I spent more of my formidable years in America - seeing the white picket fences in your neighborhoods and in movies and television shows that made me at least…wish.  Regardless of the reasons, I always had questions where Clint didn’t.  He accepted the tragedy of our lives.”  _

_Something shifted in her.  Even though what she said so far had been incredibly difficult, it was clear that Natasha tapped into her emotions when she lingered on her last statement about questions.  She’d bordered on sadness, and maybe even spite at different times over the last hour, but right now…Steve could unmistakably see anger plastered all over her face._

_“Clint and I obviously loved each other.  He was my hero when I was a child.  How could he not be, given our circumstances, right?  So, all I remember thinking, when I could actually form complex enough thoughts as a kid was, ‘How awful of children did we have to be, for our parents to toss us out like pieces of trash?’  For them to not even fight for us?   It didn’t add up because we weren’t awful.  We were slaves.”_

_Hardly any specifics had been given yet, but the outline was distinct in Steve’s head on how Natasha became the person she is today, and his heart wept for her.  She started to tremble as Steve grabbed her hand again and held her cheek to wipe her angry tears away, that were finally falling._

_Natasha leaned into his touch for a few seconds and then turned away again._

_“I was a great fighter, and I took to each of the skill sets like a fish to water, but those questions at an early age imprinted on me, which only formed more questions.  Like, how could a country demanding allegiance, pay impoverished parents to give up their children?  How could that same country, that claimed to be securing the future of its citizens, spend an astronomical amount of money and time, forming babies and children into spies?  So yeah, I had questions, where Clint didn’t.”_

_She had calmed down as she was lost in her thoughts.  Steve saw a hint of a smile form on Natasha’s lips as she said, “My questions never stopped, so let’s just say my stubbornness really shined when I was a teenager.  I was ‘difficult’ to mold, unlike others.”  Steve felt himself grin when he thought of a teenage Natasha, giving her handlers and these people hell, and he felt proud of her somehow._

_Her smile went away quickly though as she said, “I started seeing how great this country was, and how great it could be.  I really wanted to help.  My rebellious streak caused friction with my handlers, and they kept trying to break me because of how talented I was.  So, when I became an adult legally, I joined the military without their knowledge or permission, giving them a proverbial fuck you.  I was so angry at them and at the Soviet Union and Russia.  They took away Clint’s and my choices for our entire lives, and I just wanted to make a choice for myself…So my heart is always with Clint, but my allegiance lies with this country.”_

_Steve was reeling as he thought about Natasha’s past.  He heard rumors of Russian spy tactics and horror stories from the Cold War days through his military training and while overseas.  But, he never dreamed something like this could actually happen.  It was like he was reading a Tom Clancy novel, only this was real._

_He put his hands back on her knees and squeezed them gently, “I understand that feeling completely on a smaller level, Natasha.  Bucky’s father didn’t give him a choice when he abandoned him.  My ‘father’ didn’t give us a choice when he stole so much of our innocence from us.  And he didn’t give us a choice when he left emotional and physical bruises on Mom, Buck, and me.”_

_Steve took a breath and continued, “I think that’s what led me and Buck to the military.  It was a sense of order and control and service towards something greater in a chaotic and fucked up world.  We joined West Point when we turned 18, graduated, and served two tours in Afghanistan…and that led us here.”_

_Natasha looked at Steve and put her hands over his on her knees.  She remembered feeling a couple of scars on him when she was wrapped around him in the alley, and she felt the sudden urge to be closer to him.  She moved her hands to the hem of his shirt and lifted it off of him.  It didn’t confuse him because he felt it too.  He wanted and needed to feel closer to her.  It wasn’t sexual.  It was deeper as their proximity and everything about the past couple of hours together dripped with profound intimacy._

_Her hands hovered over a small scar on his chest.  Trailing upward toward his right shoulder, she found another raised line of skin and ran her thumb along it, “Consequences of battle,” Steve whispered._

_Her hand moved down his shoulder until she was tracing a tattoo on his bicep._

_Steve had mentioned it in passing before, but he wanted to tell her more.  He told her how the barbed wire symbolized being a survivor and fighter.  The sand script written beneath it was for the Army.  He felt her fingers pressing into his skin as he said, “It’s the motto from West Point – ‘Duty, Honor, Country.’”_

_Natasha nodded and looked softly into his eyes, “I guess it’s only natural, given our competitive spirits, that we were at rival military branches.  I joined the Navy and served four years, right after basic training.  They realized how talented I was early on, so I became part of a special forces group.”_

_She removed her sweater to show Steve a tattoo on her left shoulder blade that he hadn’t seen yet.  She turned her backside to him slightly, and she revealed an anchor with a compass in the middle, symbolizing the Navy.  Steve’s fingers drew over the pattern, trying to memorize every detail of her she would give him.  His hand travelled nearby to what was the unmistakable feeling of a scar from a deep knife wound.  He pressed into it as she said, “consequences of training with knives as children.”_

_The truth was he was speechless at the moment.  He was unnerved at the image behind her statement, but Natasha amazed every part of him.  He was entranced by each word coming out of her mouth, as she displayed strength, courage, and beauty with each syllable._

_But, he also had so many questions racing in his mind, ‘She’s 22, so she just finished her enlistment recently?  Where did she serve overseas?’  ‘What did her ‘handlers’ do when they found out she enlisted?’  ‘What were the unthinkable things she did as a child and teenager for them?’ He didn’t ask her anything though.  He just listened and felt her skin._

_They were lost in their thoughts for a moment.  Even though they were shirtless, and Natasha was still in that inviting lacy bra, and even though they were touching bare skin on each other’s shoulder and chest, they didn’t make a move to go any further._

_It wouldn’t have been right._

_The moment wasn’t filled with sexual tension like it had been earlier.  Of course, they still wanted all of that, but right now, the space was filled with an understanding and **trust**. _

_A couple more seconds passed, and they turned to face each other again.  They put their shirts back on and smiled, feeling the emotional connection between them deepen._

_Natasha took another drink and sighed, “Whenever I came home on leave during that time, Clint’s anger grew.  Our handlers were furious at me.  I betrayed them in their eyes by entering the military.  They wanted to cause me pain, and they took their frustrations out on him.”_

_Her eyes were glassing over again as a tremble appeared in her voice, “We both endured tremendous loss and pain growing up, both in the Soviet Union and here.  I was a teenager when I joined the Navy, and I thought I was ready for anything.  But, I never prepared myself for seeing that pain in Clint’s eyes when I came home.  I felt like I betrayed him, just like our parents did when they threw us away.”_

_Steve raised his hand to cover her heart, showing her he was right here with her, feeling every ounce of her pain.  She moved to cover his hands with hers, “I could have stayed in the Navy.  I could have gone to Annapolis and graduated.  My C.O.’s wanted me to stay, but I left after four years to come back to my brother.  Our relationship hasn’t been the same, but his anger lessened when I was around again over the last six months.”_

_Natasha was gripping Steve’s hand tighter now as she narrowed her eyes toward the window, “I was done though.  It wasn’t about me being stubborn anymore or questioning the fucked up world I was brought into…It was about me tasting freedom, and experiencing something that I took for myself, for the first time in my life…So, I worked out an agreement with our handlers.  I wouldn’t fight overseas for this country anymore under the US Military, and they would let me work inside the borders.  They agreed to let me join the FBI, but I had to keep tabs on Clint and help keep him in check.  They told me before I left that they’d ‘evaluate the situation’ after I was done here at Quantico.  What you saw tonight was Clint needing to see me, and me missing my brother.”_

_Natasha squeezed his hand as a couple of tears fell, “I can’t believe I just told you all of that, Steve.  You have to understand that if they knew…If the people from Russia knew what I told you, you and your entire family would be in danger.  I could never live with myself if something happened.”_

_The weight of her words lingered in the air before Natasha started shaking and crying, partially from relief from telling Steve part of her story, finally.  But the larger part was from feeling guilty that she had put him in danger._

_Steve pulled her into his arms, letting her cry into his chest until her breathing steadied.  He spoke to her softly, “Shhh…it’s okay Natasha.  I believe you…You don’t need to say anything more tonight.  I told you.  You can trust me with anything and don’t need to worry.  This is all between you and me.  I promise…And I’m always honest, remember?”_

_He kissed the side of her head as he rubbed her back.  She felt safe in his arms, and it frightened her.  Clint made her feel safe physically all through her childhood, and she knew she could always count on him to back her up.  This feeling was deeper.  It was that ‘something more’ again, prodding at her brain and into her heart._

_She looked up through her tears to his eyes, “You aren’t mad about anything I just told you?”_

_Steve continued to rub her back as he moved one hand to her heart to grasp her fingers.  “Mad?  No.  Am I shocked, Nat?  Yes, but you’ve been doing that to me since we first met.”_

_Natasha inhaled the smell of his cologne as he said, “Natasha, listen to me.  I know your heart, and I know what you’re telling me is true.  I’m not naïve here…I know there’s a lot you haven’t said yet…and some people would be very concerned with what you have already told me.  But please trust me when I say, I believe you, and I am just grateful that we found each other.”_

_She shook her head against him, understanding the meaning of what he was saying as he finished, “You have to know how proud I am of you for telling me everything you did…for trusting me enough to open up to me.  You’re a survivor and did what you needed to protect yourself and your brother.  I know that feeling all too well.   But you don’t need to shut me out.  You don’t need to protect me.  I’m here for you, for whenever you want to share more.”_

_“There’s so much more, Steve…”_

_“Shhh.  Natasha, I meant what I said earlier, I’m not going to pressure you, and I’ll wait for you to do this in your own time, but I have to ask…Please, no more lying.  We can’t lie to each other if we're going to trust one another.”_

_The faith he was putting in her left her with a warmth and radiance in her heart.  But the doubt she had in herself and everything she hasn’t told him yet wouldn’t go away, “You really trust me, Steve?”_

_Running his hand down the length of her spine, he whispered, “I do now, Nat.”_

_His hold strengthened around her as she said, “No more lies.  I promise you…I trust you too.  To be patient with me until I’m ready to share more…to keep everything I said between you and me…I just trust you, Steve.”_

_He kissed her head again.  It was late, and they were exhausted physically and emotionally as he pulled her down on her bed.  Facing one another, their arms found their way around each other as their foreheads barely touched.  Their clothes remained on, but their walls had been stripped down completely for the first time._

* * *

**Present Day – FBI Headquarters**

Fury caught up with Sam and Bucky by the elevators as they were returning from the parking garage, failing to catch Steve, “Barnes, where the fuck did your brother go?”

“He got a head start,” Sam started.  “We couldn’t see where he went, but he left his badge,” Bucky added, looking very worried.  Fury sighed, “Conference room, now.”

Sam and Bucky joined the group already situated as Stark spoke loudly over everyone, “How the hell did you manage to lose Steve in your own building?  Where is he going?  What did Loki say to him?” 

Fury entered as Rhodey said, “I can’t believe there were pictures of her body.”

Old wounds that had been sputtering toward the surface since everyone first came into contact with each other at the abandoned farm house were now open and raw, and reaching a boiling point.

Uncharacteristically, Wanda lashed out, “James Rhodes, don’t you dare sound like you care.  Maybe if you and Tony would have shown up to our service for Natasha, you would know more.” 

Rhodey jumped on her words, “You keep telling yourself that, Maximoff.  You and your FBI Scooby gang didn’t want Tony or me anywhere near your team then.  You were done with us.” 

Fury was trying to collect his thoughts as things started to get out of hand.  The truth was, he was pretty shaken by the events in the last 15 minutes. 

Maria was crying as she spoke, “What’s your excuse to me then?  Bruce, Sam, Bucky, Wanda…Fury?  Thor and I were there at the memorial service you had for her.”

Thor’s voice boomed, “Not one of you said a word to us about the pictures…about the horror you saw Steve go through, seeing Natasha like that.  Why?” 

Everyone was on edge, but the FBI team was fuming right now, misplacing their pain and anger.  Bucky started, “Like my wife said a few minutes ago, Steve’s _family_ was with him that day…that’s all who needed to know.  So cut the bullshit, Maria.  This isn’t about your fucking feelings.”

Sam quickly added, “Just because you felt guilty enough to show up to a service that we felt obligated to invite you to, doesn’t change anything.  You left us.  You were part of our family.  You all were, and then you left.”

Stark shook his head and laughed, “Seriously, what is this an episode of Dallas?  Because that’s damn well what it feels like.  Are you seriously trying to tell me…tell us, that your feelings are still hurt because we decided to move on from the FBI?” 

Bruce interrupted before he could continue, “Tony, don’t try to cheapen this.  It’s goes a hell of a lot deeper than that.  You didn’t just move on from the FBI.  You moved on from us, and it felt like you never looked back.” 

Sam, Wanda, and Bucky were nodding in agreement, as they stared at Maria, Thor, Tony, and Rhodey across the table from them.  

Rhodey shook his head, “I don’t believe this,” but Tony cut him off, “Oh believe it, buddy.  Fury, you and your sacred FBI team treat this place like it’s God’s gift to humanity when there are so many other places to work and grow out there.  It’s like you wanted us to castrate our careers just so we could pretend we were still at the Academy together.” 

Wanda finally spoke again, shutting everyone else up, “You really think we’re that childish, Tony?  It goes so much deeper than that, and the four of you know it.  First, Loki left and went down his rabbit hole to the dark side.  Then, Natasha betrayed us.  And then slowly, one by one, the four of you left.”

Silence filled the room as everyone stared at her. 

She continued, while tears formed in her eyes, “It’s not the fact that you left, that hurt the most.  It’s that you left and stopped coming around.  You didn’t just leave the FBI, you left us and didn’t look back.  It was like we didn’t even matter to you in the first place.  So yeah, those images we saw, and the sounds we heard from Steve as he shattered in front of us…yeah, that was something that his _family_ held close to our hearts.  To ourselves.” 

Stark, Rhodey, Thor, and Maria lowered their heads as Bucky and Sam put their hands on Wanda’s shoulders.

Fury looked at the group, if he could even call it that, and found his voice as he felt his own anger surface at this fucked up situation. 

“That’s enough.  All of you.”

The agents all looked up as he said, “I hope you all feel good, getting all that anger out there in the open.  Because while we’re in here barking at each other like a bunch of rabid dogs, Rogers is out there.  Alone and without a goddamn badge.  Where is he going?  What is he going to do?  We’re only a team of top FBI, CIA, NSA, and Homeland agents, so how the fuck should any of us know, right?  You know, I’m pretty sure Maximoff and Barnes’ son could act more grown-up than any of you right now.” 

Fury was exasperated, “And Loki…That mother fucker in there is smiling like the Cheshire Cat because he put this in motion, and we played our parts perfectly.” 

Everyone started to breathe normally again as they started reflecting on their own actions instead of everyone else’s as Fury continued, “I said this earlier, but I guess it didn’t stick at the first sign of trouble…The only way we’re going to figure out what’s going on is by putting the bullshit behind us and figuring out a way to work together.”

No one said a word as silence fell over the group, causing everyone to finally stop blaming each other for matters out of their hands.

Fury started talking again, “Alright, let’s clear the air about a few things here.  Maria, yes.  We all saw those horrifying pictures.  And _we..._ that includes _me_ …decided out of respect for Steve, and our positive memories of Natasha, that we’d keep that information close within our circle.  Trust me, you didn’t want to be in the loop.  Steve changed, and I don’t think he ever recovered after seeing her body like that.  He was in a dark place for a _very_ long time, and this job was his only lifeline.  The fact that he abandoned proof of ‘that lifeline’ by leaving his badge here, should cause us all to be very concerned.”

Fury tossed Rogers’ badge on the table, and everyone looked at it as it landed with a loud thud. 

Stark asked, “Did you verify the pictures?”  He looked around at everyone’s stares, “I mean it.  I’m not trying to be an asshole here.  You know what Natasha’s people were capable of.”

Wanda wiped her eyes and stared at the wall in between Rhodey and Toney as she answered, “We confirmed the authenticity of the images.  They weren’t computer generated, and nothing in them was fake.  We found what we could.  Steve searched for months for any leads or possibilities.  You should have seen him then.  He was going on fumes and wouldn’t work on any other cases.”

Wanda exhaled as she continued, “We did what we could to help follow-up on anything he’d tell us, but you all know Steve and Natasha’s relationship.  It’s was the two of them in this bubble since day one at Quantico.  Yeah, we were all friends and family, but they were in their own world…with their own secrets.” 

“What are you saying?” Maria asked. 

She looked at her husband and at Sam.  She was exhausted, so Sam spoke for her, “Look, Wanda just meant that Natasha and Steve were intense.  They always had this weird and deep and powerful _thing_ between them.  So, when Natasha betrayed our team, Steve was gutted.  I know you all saw that to a certain extent, but it didn’t compare to 18 months ago.”

Bruce finished the thought, “When Steve saw the pictures of her, it made her betrayal seem like nothing.  He was destroyed.  It was like he always held out hope that somehow, someday, she could come back to us and to him.  After the pictures though, his hope was gone.”

The FBI team all nodded in agreement. 

Trying to show a sign that he was willing to work together, Bucky spoke next, “We always suspected Steve had a way of keeping tabs on Natasha after she betrayed us.  He never said anything, but like Wanda said, there was still a sign of hope in his voice whenever Natasha’s name was accidentally dropped in a conversation.  It was like he truly believed she’d find a way back.  Then, it was almost like his life was taken away too, 18 months ago.”

Sam added, “Steve’s been a different person.  His PTSD symptoms got worse over the last couple of years…He didn’t take any of Bruce’s advice, medically…it was like he was on autopilot for a long time.” 

Bucky finished, “He tries to fake it with us and with Peter, but we all know that he has his walls up and just uses anything he can as a distraction, to stop thinking about Natasha.  It’s the main reason why Wanda and I moved in with him right now.  Yeah, we’re moving, but we wanted to see if we can help him more.”

Tempers had calmed and individuals continued to reflect on the words that were thrown at each other like red meat to a pack of lions.  Tony rubbed his face, while Thor put his arm around Maria, and Rhodey looked down at the ground.   

Fury blew out a breath, “Do the four of you all feel in the loop now and caught up to speed?”  They all nodded as he continued, “Okay, that brings us to Loki.  What is he trying to do?  And what did he say to Rogers to get him to sprint out of here and abandon his badge?”

Bucky asked, “Wanda, anyway you can hear what he was saying with your equipment?” 

“No, I already looked at the video ten times and zoomed in.  Loki knew his angles and knew how to bate Steve in order to get him in a position, so his back was to the camera.”

Bucky said, “Look, Sam and I saw Steve when he was running out of here.  Nothing could have stopped him.  So, whatever Loki said, it jump-started something in him.”

Sam added, “Or it ignited a fire in him.  What if Loki found out something about Natasha’s death, like who was responsible.  What else could have stopped Steve from pounding Loki’s face in and running out of that room like a bat out of hell?”

Stark responded, “Steve’s judgement is askew.  We need to figure out who or what Loki pointed him toward.  Let me at him…Turn off the camera, and I’ll have him singing soon.” 

Fury said, “No Tony.  He’s not going to talk from any of your ‘tactics.’  Plus, I already told you – FBI rules on this.  Loki had this whole charade planned for today from the moment the FBI arrested him, to tipping your agencies off, to provoking Steve to punch him…And for what?  So, he could tell Steve something.  He knew Rogers would run out of here after whatever he told them.  Do you really think beating him and pulling out his fingernails…and whatever else it is you guys do at your agency, will get him to talk?  I don’t think so, let’s use our heads instead.”   

* * *

Sam and Bucky wanted to go in to talk to Loki again, but Wanda demanded it be her.  She had been the most successful with him before, and she felt like she could get through to him.  So she entered the interrogation room for round two with him, and everyone else found themselves back where they started - in the observation room. 

“Welcome, welcome my pretty lady.  You couldn’t stay away from me long, could you?  Just like Steven and Natasha, we’re inseparable.” Loki started

She cut him off, “I’m going to make this quick, Loki.  You reek of desperation and boredom…And unlike before, I am out of patience.”

Loki smirked at her, “Well, if all it took to get you to show a darker side, Maximoff, was me tearing your perfect team and family to shreds, I would have done it _years_ ago…”

“Loki, you think you are a King in the criminal world.  Let me tell you, Kings fall.  And if there is one thing that the general population of a maximum security prison has little tolerance for, it’s disloyal and traitorous people…criminal or not.  You used to be a Fed…do you really think anyone in prison will ever see you as more than that?  And on top of it, your expensive taste will have you crying into your pillow within nine hours of arrival.”

Wanda has lashed out at people before, of course.  But not like this.  Not deliberate, methodical, and calculated.  She was on another level right now as she continued, “So let me spell this out, you son of a bitch.  I don’t care about your games.  I don’t care about the joy you got in provoking and prodding and planning this pathetic reunion today and from bringing people, who once cared about you, pain.  And neither do you.  Because at the end of the day, right now…you feel just as empty as you did this morning, before we caught up with you…Now that is pathetic.”

Loki looked stunned.  So did everyone in the observation room.  Everyone was hurting and feeling vulnerable, and Wanda took all of that pain and focused it on the person sitting across from her. 

“Why today?  Why the farmhouse?  What did you tell Steve?”

Loki narrowed his eyes at her.  The grin was gone towards his old friend, “If you keep asking never-ending questions, you’ll never get an answer that satisfies.” 

Wanda pursed her lips for a second, “Okay, then we’ll choose one question for now…Your slender body has to be starving for all of that organic and high dollar crap you waste money on.  So let’s play a game, Loki.  One question, one material request within reason for you, granted.  You want a seaweed shake…you got it.  You want a mud mask for that porcelain skin, I’ll go and buy you one myself.”

If the situation wasn’t so dire and serious right now, Bucky would be extremely turned on watching his wife take complete control of the situation. 

“My my…are you this demanding in the bedroom with Barnes?  Okay, Okay.  I’ll give you one question for now…for a Chai Tea,” he said. 

Wanda looked up to the monitor, telling the room with her eyes to get on the request of getting this asshole a Chai Tea before she said, “Why bring up Natasha today?  What’s significant about today?”

Loki jumped on her words and leaned forward, “Why not?  Someone had to because you and your _family_ certainly weren’t going to.”

Wanda leaned back and stared at him as he continued, “Do you know what it was like to find out that Natasha had died through the dark web?  You can say what you will about me, Wanda…But even with all the crimes I’ve committed, I would never have kept you or anyone else in that watch room, from a memorial for Natasha.” 

Wanda was dumbfounded.  Stupid or not, she could tell he was being genuine right now, “So what, today is a response to your feelings being hurt?”

Anger rose in him as he continued, “Hurt? No, no, no.  Hurt, was how I felt when none of you gave me a second chance or fought for me.  You know who did though?  Natasha.  She understood that we weren’t flawless as human beings.  She understood _that_ more than anyone.  She knew that people could make mistakes and still be worth fighting for.  So no, today is not about hurt feelings, my dear.  It’s about the playing field being leveled to show we’re all not so different.”

He wasn’t going to talk in circles and not answer her question.  She would make sure of it as she spoke over him, “Maybe you’re right.  We were friends.  Maybe I should have tried to stand up for you more…”

He paused and stared at her.  She had his attention as she continued, “You want to show that we’re not all so different, Loki?  You want to prove me and everyone out there wrong, showing that there is an ounce of something decent inside of you that’s worth fighting for?  You want to honor the memory of Natasha and how she chose to try to see the good in you?  Then tell me, What’s significant about today…with Natasha?”

They sat still, watching each other.  Her words had gotten to him. 

A minute passed before he whispered, “You know I saw her after she left, all those years ago, when I went down my road of freedom.”

“Crimes you mean,” she said. 

He answered, “No, freedom, Wanda.  Freedom to do whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted.  Anyway, I saw her, and she forgave me.  She said she would always remember the good times we all had together at Quantico and the years that followed.  She accepted that we all had our own paths to follow.  None of you could forgive her for her flaws, but I did…And Steve did too, eventually.” 

Wanda flinched and looked straight into the camera.  Everyone was staring back and leaning toward the screen at the mention of Steve.  

He continued, “I knew, that if and when I screwed up here, I would be thrown out with the bath water.  And the first time I made a mistake, none of you fought for me, so the choice became easy for me.  I left and didn’t let anyone or anything hold me back anymore.  So yeah, freedom.”

He drummed his fingers on the table and continued, “It’s bad enough you threw us both out for being flawed individuals, but you gave up on finding answers on her death too.  You didn’t fight to find out what happened to her in those pictures.  Sure you did the basics.  You verified the pictures were real.  You discovered a body with her DNA on it, and you let Steve’s grief convince you.  And I let it convince me for a while too.”

He paused and pointed his fingers at the camera behind him and then to Wanda, “But you should have tried harder, Dear.  If this is really your family, you should have tried harder for her, and you should have tried harder for Steve.”

Wanda’s throat was tightening as everyone watching, held their breath, “What are you saying, Loki?”

He answered, “What I’m saying is that you gave up.  Steve didn’t, but oh my god, did his despair prevent him from seeing clearly, so I had to give everyone a little nudge in the right direction.” 

She asked, “So, what, the nudge, is you orchestrating the farm house arrest and coordinating with the NSA, Homeland, and CIA?”

Loki answered, “What can I say, Wanda?  I’ve always had a flare for being dramatic.  But that’s not even half of it…I hacked into your precious lab 18 months ago and found those pictures after I heard chatter on the web about a former Fed in the New York Bureau being murdered, and I feared the worst too.  I thought there was no way Natasha would have allowed you or Steve to see something like that, so she must be gone, right?  But then I thought, why would someone send those images to Rogers?  It was to hurt him and to torture him.”

“Well, they did torture him.  He is tortured to this day.  We all are to some extent,” Wanda responded. 

Loki smirked and said, “Yeah, but then I started realizing if Natasha were actually dead in those pictures, more proof would have been sent to you.” 

It was clear Wanda was wrapped up in his story as she immediately responded, “What do you mean ‘if’ Loki.  Every test I possibly could run, I did.  Every piece of information we could find, pointed to it being her in those pictures.  Plus, British intelligence found a body at that same time and confirmed it was someone with Natasha’s description with her DNA.  She’s gone, Loki.” 

He sarcastically said, “Oh, well if a government agency says it, it must be true, right?  Come on Wanda, and boys and girls in the peanut gallery…let’s actually take off our FBI hats and put on our thinking caps.  You said it, my dear…You did what you could, and you found what _you_ could.  Newsflash though, there’s a whole world out there that lies beyond your red tape.  And that helped me find the truth.” 

“And what truth is that?” Wanda asked. 

“Oh, I could waste your time with all of the dabbles I’ve found on all of you, but I won’t.  But what I will say, is that you all had suspicions that Steve kept tabs on Natasha over the years after she left the FBI, right?”

Wanda looked at the camera for a minute, before nodding as Loki continued, “See, you just confirmed it.  Good job, but what you don’t know is that his ‘tabs’ went a hell of a lot further than just finding out information on her.”

Wanda waved her fingers, motioning him to continue. 

“Wow…I forgot how slowly bureaucracy works.  I don’t know how I can piece this together for you any quicker.”

Wanda ran her hand over her face before demanding, “Loki!  Did you tell Steve who killed Natasha?  Is that where he went so desperately?”

Loki answered, “Who _killed_ Natasha?  Wow, I really do have to spell this out for you.  I didn’t tell Steve who killed Natasha.  I told him where to _find_ Natasha.”

Everyone in the observation room glanced at each other as Wanda leaned forward, over the table, “Loki, British Intelligence found her body.  Quit lying to me!” 

Loki slammed his palms on the table and got as close to her face as he could.  She flinched as he annunciated in a demanding tone, “Look in my eyes girl and tell me I’m lying.”

Wanda stared at him and the floor fell out from under her.  Or at least that’s exactly how it felt as her stomach lurched in her body and her voice left her momentarily.  Her eyes drilled into his to seek the confirmation that her stomach already told her was true. 

Loki saw her come to the realization, “That’s my Wanda.  It’s time you started thinking like a criminal if you’re going to stand a chance of keeping up.  Now listen closely, because I’m not going to repeat myself.  Whoever _had_ Natasha, didn’t want her to be found.  They knew, if you all saw pictures of her dead body, and had an actual body, confirmed to be her in Europe, you would eventually stop looking.  They couldn’t have Rogers finding her again.” 

Panic was coursing through her veins as she whispered, “Again?”

“You see.  This is why I must pay respect to Steve.  As angry and blunt as that man can be.  He knew, that if he wanted to find his precious Nat again, he would have to do some digging on the dark side, and _finally_ play in that grey and middle area that he loved to lambast Romanoff over when they first met...”

Wanda’s eyes were watering as she was rendered speechless when Loki said, “Wanda.  Rogers found Natasha two years ago.  That’s where he can find her again, tonight.  Natasha is alive, and only Rogers knows where she is.  That’s what I told him.  _That’s_ why he ran out of here like he was on fire.”

Loki sat back in his chair lifting his hands as much as he could, “To recap because I know everyone back there in the nosebleed section is as mute as you are right now, that’s all I know.  I kept looking for her when you all gave up, and I found out she wasn’t dead.  Those photos were faked.  I don’t know how, but they were.  Maybe they gave her a drug to have her body stop, so she couldn’t fight back.  Maybe she was complicit because they had a gun to her head.  I don’t know.”

He paused for a few seconds and finished, “But what I do know, is that she’s _alive_ , and before her ‘fake death,’ Rogers found her two years ago.  I don’t know how he found her, but he did.  The dark web is useful for finding out things that you aren’t supposed to know.   I already told you that.  So, tonight, I gave Rogers the information I had, that he could find her in the place they were in two years ago, together.  Oh, and you can keep your crappy Chai Tea.”

Loki closed his hands together as Wanda finally found the feeling in her body again, running back to the conference room well into the evening now, as everyone else joined her.  Immediately, the room erupted again with questions about what had just occurred. 

* * *

**_2 Years Ago -_ **

_Steve finally had a break in his routine.  He had been searching for Natasha so long at night and in his free time, that it became a second job to him.  He pushed feelings of despair and anger deep down by focusing on the task at hand – to find her.  He tried to keep up the front at work like everything was normal.  Although his teammates and family knew he wasn’t okay, he kept enough in check to avoid too many questions most of the time, and still excelled at his job, but Bucky and Wanda especially had gotten into several serious discussions, arguments, and near interventions with him recently._

_He groaned in frustration as he sat at his computer at home on a dark web site searching through illegal information, trying to find her.  Another day, another inch over that line he once thought he’d never cross._

_Further down the rabbit hole he went._

_Looking around his apartment right now, he saw several evidence boards covered in maps, pictures, sticky notes and string.  His counter tops, kitchen and coffee table, and window sills were covered with boxes and folders, filled with evidence and information he had collected over time.  In short, his apartment looked like a small version of the garage in the movie, ‘A Beautiful Mind.’_

_Which is also why he avoided having anyone come over to his apartment, and had for quite some time now.  Steve knew what others would say or think.  If Bucky and Wanda especially, started getting on his case more than usual, he’d force himself to go spend time at their place and with Peter, to appease their worried feelings for him._

_The only thing that didn’t look chaotic in his apartment was his actual bed, and that was because he seldom slept in it anymore.  If he did try to sleep, some of his old symptoms usually emerged in the form of nightmares.  One of the worst nights involved a shattered drinking glass, a sliced hand, and stitches that Bruce helped him out with because Steve didn’t want to go to the ER._

_So, sleep had become more of a medicinal necessity than anything else to Steve.  Only catching an hour or two when he absolutely needed it, and seldom for leisure.  But even there, sitting next to his night stand in his bedroom, was a stack of worn sketch pads, filled with endless drawings of his memories, mostly of his Red Head and their time together._

_His mind wandered, as he thought of how Loki started down this rabbit hole so many years ago, before Natasha left.  ‘Loki did it for money, you are doing it to find Natasha.  There’s a difference,’ Steve told himself over and over again, justifying his actions._

_If he could just find her again, the ends would justify the means.  He followed a trail a week ago from a friend in Immigration Services that eventually led him to a Russian informant, who gave him some more potential leads.  That specific trail had gone cold three days ago, but it did lead him to a hacker that gave him the names of several chat rooms that he might find some useful information in.  Several nights later, and many Dark Web searches later, led Steve to the current chatroom he was in tonight, with a mystery person that had him feeling hopeful for the first time in a **very** long time._

_The mystery person had the chat name of ‘HackerJacker,’ who claimed they had information on Natasha’s whereabouts, or as the person said – a long lost friend.  He knew he’d have to hide his FBI persona, so Steve picked his chat name from an old case file involving a hacker named, ‘Candyman.’  What had him feeling hopeful and caused his hair to stand up on the back of his neck, was the fact that the name ‘HackerJacker’ was from another case file that he and Natasha had worked on a long time ago._

_HackerJacker: Candyman, huh?  Sweet person, Sweet tooth, or Horror Movie Murderer?_

_Candyman: Who do you want me to be?_

_HackerJacker:  That is a very loaded question._

_Candyman:  I would say your username spurs several loaded questions…_

_HackerJacker:  I don’t know if you’re ready for the answers…_

_Candyman:  Alright, then you ask a question._

_HackerJacker: Hmmm…What’s a sweet person / possible horror movie character like yourself doing in a dark chat room like this?_

_Candyman: Same thing as everyone else here probably…searching for something…or someone._

_HackerJacker: Searching for answers can be tiresome…I need to laugh, Candyman.  Tell me a joke._

_Candyman:  A joke huh?  Sure…for something in return._

_HackerJacker:  And what is it that you want in return, for one of your famous jokes?_

_Candyman:  Info on a VIP to me, and where I can find them._

_HackerJacker:  Hmmm…If you get the whereabouts of this VIP, does that mean I get to party with you…VIP style?_

_Candyman:  Only if I get solid info._

_HackerJacker:  Okay then, what joke do you have for me?  And remember, it better make me laugh._

_Candyman:  Wanna freak out your neighbor?  Name your wifi, ‘FBI surveillance van #7._

_HackerJacker:  It made me smile, but I wouldn’t quit your day job.  I would call that a humorous story and not a joke…Lucky for you I’m feeling generous._

_Candyman:  Good.  Now it’s your turn…info?_

_HackerJacker:  Always so impatient?  You should go for a run at night to calm yourself._

_Steve’s heart started pumping harder at the last statement.  The person typing to him called him impatient and told him to go for a run.  He was trying to temper his hope at the beginning of the conversation, because the name HackerJacker could have been a fluke.  But this had to be more than a coincidence, right?  Yes.  Either this was Natasha, or they had been told what to type by her.  He was close.  He could feel it._

_Candyman:  Not always impatient.  But when I really want something, I tend to be stubborn…like someone who used to be with me._

_HackerJacker:  Go to the place where you remember pieces of your past from.  In the quiet night, you can find calm…_

_Candyman:  Can I find you or find what I’m looking for?_

_HackerJacker:  Both…_

_Candyman:  That’s what I thought.  The calm I seek, is it the place I talked about long ago?_

_HackerJacker:  Only one way to find out…I estimate if you go now, you can find what you’re looking for in time._

_Steve slammed his computer shut and raced out of his apartment with his keys and coat that had everything he needed.  He got into his SUV and sped towards the location he remembered telling Natasha about._

 

* * *

 

 


	9. Bursting Dam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I hope you enjoy this chapter and image board below.
> 
> Your continued support and encouragement just mean so much to me as we continue on this AU crazy journey.
> 
> I love hearing from readers, so let me know your thoughts or come follow me on Tumblr @eightieskat if you'd like to chat about anything with the story, Marvel, or anything else. Have a great day :)
> 
> Cheers!~~Kat

Memories & Reality 

I do not own any of this or any part of Marvel or the MCU

Chapter 9 – Bursting Dam

* * *

_**12 Years Ago –** _

_‘ Елена, ты глупый ребенок. Разве ты не знаешь, что никогда не будешь свободным? ’_

_The Russian words played over and over, repeatedly in Natasha’s sleep.  First, she was being yelled at by her handlers.  Then it was her brother speaking to her, resigned in defeat.  And then, her birth parents said those words with no emotion at all, like it was an afterthought.  A footnote on her life, as if to say – this is the way it has always been, and the way it will always be.  As if she was a grain of sand trying to stand against a tidal wave coming ashore, her birth parents were telling her she could not fight her destiny._

_Suddenly, she was back in the orphanage, in a filthy and damp bathroom.  The cold feeling of concrete below her feet, the sound of water dripping from decaying pipes, the smell of despair and mildew in the air…it all came back to her as the unforgettable memory of having to exist in that place washed over her.  But as she stood over a rusted sink, looking at the dirty, cracked mirror, the image before her transformed._

_On the other side of the looking glass was her…as a child.  Natasha peered at the reflection, and watched the innocent face.  The toddler was not even five years old.  With an emerald stare and thick curls that could be mistaken as flames, the young girl looked directly at Natasha._

_The image was haunting._

_At first, her infantile expression was filled with raised eyebrows and wonderment, as a normal child’s would.  Then, she wished with dreamy eyes and a toothy smile…as **all** children should.  But then, panic infiltrated those enchanted eyes and blanketed her expression as if she was now begging for something else in life.  Anything else.  _

_At that age, not understanding hardly anything at all was most children’s struggle.  Figuring out their way in a big and endless world…where wishes and wonders were born.  But understanding entirely too much of everything…everything dark this world hid beneath the surface was this child’s burden.  It was this child’s reality.  And now, she was glaring back at Natasha._

_The green in her eyes pooled with liquid, overflowing with tears forged from hopelessness and fear.  It was all too similar to the woman standing on the opposite end.  Natasha wanted to reach out and hug little Yelena as she cried.  She wanted to scoop her up in her arms and tell her she was strong, and she would survive.  But when Natasha reached to touch the mirror, the splintering sound of glass rang through her ears as Yelena morphed into the image of Natasha._

_She was staring at herself now, and her body became ice cold at the site of the woman in the mirror.  Her eyes turned black as she raised her hand to point at Natasha.  The woman’s fingers were dripping with blood as she repeated the same words from the beginning of the dream, only this time in English._

_“Yelena, you stupid child.  Don’t you know, you’ll never be free?”_

* * *

_Steve felt Natasha’s body shift in his arms._

_After both revealing so much to one another (especially her), they had fallen asleep only a couple of hours ago, exhausted and holding each other._

_During their first month at Quantico, they had gotten to know each other’s likes, dislikes, quirks, and strengths.  They were friends, wanting something more.  Last night though, Natasha finally opened the door and let Steve in._

_Steve opened his eyes, smiling.  He glanced around in the dark and noticed the moon and stars were still visible outside.  He stretched his neck to look at the nightstand next to the twin bed they barely fit in, and saw the time on the alarm clock - 4:34 am._

_As he finally looked down at the woman in his arms, his smile vanished as he noticed every little detail.  Entrenched creases visible on her forehead, lips puckered, eyebrows almost forming a single track as they scrunched toward the bridge of her nose, eyes clamped shut with traces of lines forming in the corners, and sweat…he saw and felt everything her body was telling him._

_He felt her back against his palms and indistinguishably felt the moisture that had dampened her sweater.  This was something that Steve was all too familiar with in his own experience with bad dreams and nightmares.  What haunted her, he didn’t know at the moment, but he did recognize all the signs.  It was more than unsettling._

_He pulled her securely against him and started whispering soothing sounds in her ear._

_Steve had fallen asleep, finally feeling assured about their steps forward, even though he still had a million questions.  But the troubling image on her face right now, only made that number seem miniscule, as his mind raced.  ‘What is causing her pain and worry right now, after the night we had together?  Who were her handlers?  What was Clint really like…could he be trusted?  Is she really free from Russia and the grasp of her past?  Is Nat going to keep letting me in?’_

_There were so many more, but the one that he tried to shove to the back of his brain, wouldn’t be ignored.  Sometimes, the more you try to avoid something, the more blaringly obvious it becomes.  The unavoidable question plowed through, right to the forefront, ‘Am I in over my head?’_

_‘No,’ he immediately wanted to yell, feeling annoyed.  Truthfully, yes he was, but it didn’t matter._

_There was no going back, because he didn’t want to go back.  He fell into this gravitational pull a month ago, and maybe he didn’t understand it, but he wasn’t fighting it anymore.  He would figure it out. **They** would figure it out. _

_He heard a murmur escape her lips and could feel some of the tension start to ease from her shoulders as he kept whispering soft and gentle sounds to her._

_She opened up to him more last night than Steve could have ever dreamed, and he knew she would answer all of his questions in time – he trusted her to do that.  But he also knew how fragile their trust was in this beginning stage.  How could it not be?_

_So, he wouldn’t push.  He would be patient._

_He knew they needed to be careful too.  While the FBI didn’t prohibit relationships within a class at Quantico, there were risks that came with it.  And not just the risks of them moving too fast, physically.  He wanted this to be right with Natasha.  So, as difficult as it might be, a little patience and control could honestly do them some good in this area to help them avoid public indecency again._

_No, the risks he was worried about ran much deeper.  Like not being able to tell others Nat’s story, when they would inherently ask more questions as time went on.  He wasn’t comfortable with the idea of lying to his brother…at all.  So, he’d have to figure this out soon.  Bucky knew Steve better than anyone, so Steve was going to have to at least be okay with not sharing, or deflecting…How ironic that last night started with Sam and Bucky asking Steve if Natasha was a master of deflection._

_There was also the risk of getting too distracted by each other.  Jeopardizing their goals and dreams in the FBI because they were in too much of a blissful haze was simply not an option.  He was more than confident they could avoid this pitfall._

_That fighting spirit and competitiveness, while shaped from different circumstances, was intrinsically who they were.  So, they would stay on track with their training and would keep putting in extra hours.  And all the time they spent together in between would be about them and their relationship._

_This whole program - the FBI - it was too important to him.  He knew it was incredibly important to Nat too…it was a symbol of freedom for her.  A possibility of a life of her own._

_He felt his heart twist at that thought.  How she had lived…No, how she had survived as a child and a teenager, suddenly overwhelmed him.  How freedom and the simplest choices weren’t her own until she stole it for herself.  Remembering everything she told him, and thinking of everything she hasn’t yet as he started to fill in the gaps, finally caused Steve to tap into stronger emotions about her life._

_He was too stunned by the astounding sadness of her story last night, that he kept any anger at bay.  All he wanted to do was hold her when she told him about the orphanage.  All he wanted to do was wipe her tears away as she cried.  All he wanted to do was protect her._

_But now, he felt that anger.  And as he looked down at the faint signs of pain and anguish on her beautiful face, all he wanted was to hurt her parents for what they did to her.  He wanted to find these handlers of hers and make them never have contact with her again.  God, it reminded him of feeling helpless as his own father’s fists found his body.  How he would be too late or too weak to stop him from hurting his mother and Bucky._

_Only this was worse.  It was menacing, unforgiveable, and heart breaking on a much grander scale.  Holding her tighter now, he soothed his own pain, by knowing she was safe in his arms right now.  But all of that sorrow and pain and anger he was feeling for her, made him remember the other risk._

_The biggest fucking risk of them all, that was now blaring in his ears - the warning of, ‘ **They** ,’ that Natasha spoke of.  Who they were, and what they could do to him and his family if they knew she shared what she did, caused him to worry.  More importantly, what they could do to her caused him to fear.  _

_He took a deep breath and pressed a kiss to her forehead.  Steve surprisingly, wasn’t feeling weighed down by the risks as his lips lingered on Natasha.  Instead, he felt more determined than ever to figure out a way through this – together._

_Steve pulled his head away for a moment as he heard her mumble into his chest, “Penny for your thoughts?”_

_He frowned as he looked at her, “I should be asking you the same thing, Nat.  I’d recognize a rough go of it when it comes to sleep anywhere…”_

_“Just a bad dream…one I’ve been having for a very long time,” she said.  And that was true._

_Natasha had images of her as a child and an adult haunt her slumber for a lot of her life, especially when she ran away to the Navy, tasting that ‘freedom’ for the very first time.  What was different now, was that for the first time in her life, she felt like she had a lot more to lose.  When it was just her and Clint that she worried about, it was unsettling, but somehow felt manageable.  Now that her trust had expanded to Steve, her worry only increased._

_Steve ran his thumb over her forehead, trying to iron the lines out.  Trying to wipe the worry away.  She smiled at him, “It’s nothing Steve.  Just a couple of ghosts trying to shake the cobwebs loose…nothing some vodka, a nice run, or apparently your large arms can’t fix.”_

_He grinned at her as he loosened his grip and gave them a little space by propping himself up on his arm.  Everything he had just been analyzing and picking apart in his brain before she woke up, was running through her head in similar variations right now.  Her eyes flickered with unease, “Steve, are you still feeling…okay…about everything I told you last night?”_

_Resting his hand on her hip, he leaned over and placed a tender kiss on her lips, “What I’m okay with, is you…and us.  I’m so glad you told me what you did…I’m just taking everything in.”  She breathed a sigh of relief, kissing him back for a moment.  Her hand lingered over his dog tags that had fallen out of his shirt while they slept.  She brushed her fingers over his name on the metal as she said, “Good.  Because I’m still okay too.”_

_The risks were popping into his head again…deflect and avoid if you can…and his mind was suddenly focused on the time.  Sam and Bucky would be waking up from their alcohol-induced hangovers within the next couple of hours, and he didn’t want them berating him with questions about spending the night with Natasha right now.  They needed to figure some things out._

_God, he did not want to leave, but his rational mind was yelling at him._

_“Natasha, this is not me cutting and running.  This is me trying to be smart about all of this.  We deserve to try and figure this out on our own as long as we can, so I don’t know that me walking back to my room from yours…in a few hours from now, would be private.  Not to mention, I’d still be in my clothes from the bar.”_

_Natasha laughed as she gripped the tags firmly in her hand, pulling him toward her, “Are you afraid of a little walk of shame, Rogers?”_

_He smiled as his hand ran up and down her side, “Oh, there is absolutely no shame about anything with you and me, Nat.  I just mean I want to talk more about everything you said.  I want to keep working on us without the hecklers chiming in out there…We deserve that right now.  At least for a little while.”_

_She understood and smiled as he continued, “So, I think I should sneak back before Sam and Bucky wake up from their drunken sleep to avoid more questions than needed.  But, how about you and I meet up, around eight for breakfast, and then we can go for a run?”_

_“And the rest will follow, right?” she asked.  He smiled, remembering that’s what he told her before she opened up last night.  She pulled the chain a little tighter, until her lips found his, kissing him deeper for a moment._

_She said, “Sounds like a date.  So, this is goodbye for now, right?”_

_Steve leaned in again, this time causing a moan to escape her lips as his mouth found hers again.  His fingers dug into her hip as she pressed her palm over the metal chain against his chest.  Moving her other arm up, she found his free hand with hers._

_He pulled away, smirking at her as they were both breathing a little heavier and said, “No goodbyes Natasha.  I don’t ever want to say that to you.  So, how about, I’ll see you soon.”_

_Natasha blushed as he got up from the bed, put his shoes on, and headed for the door, “I like the sound of that, Steve…I’ll see you soon.”_

* * *

_To say the dam had burst over the next six weeks, would be putting it mildly._

_As the weeks wore on, Natasha and Steve’s feelings towards one another grew stronger, and so did their trust in one another.  They discussed all the risks that Steve was worried about.  Natasha felt the same way._

_Some of those risks had easy solutions._

_Steve shared his concern right away at breakfast six weeks ago about how he could avoid lying to his brother, and how they would handle people’s eventual questions about Natasha, the more time went on._

_“Steve, I don’t want you to lie to your brother for me, either.  You need to trust me to be able to handle this.  Remember, the best lies contain elements of the truth,” Natasha told Steve that same morning as they went for a run._

_Turns out, he was never confronted with the problem.  Natasha had existed in a very different world than Steve, her entire life.  She knew if people were given enough information, the questioning would stop.  So, that’s what she did._

_Natasha was able to give them just enough to satisfy their inquiries._

_A week later, they were all hanging out in the lounge when Stark made another off-handed comment about Natasha being so secretive.  He was semi-kidding, but she decided to take the moment to ease some of Steve’s worries.  She told them a vague story about her being in an orphanage as a child, having a rough upbringing, and being adopted before joining the Navy and then the FBI._

_She said nothing about being Soviet born and sold into a Russian spy program by her horrible birth parents.  Nothing about running away to the Navy.  Nothing about having an angry older brother that she worried about and having handlers that loomed in the back of her mind, waiting on the outside of Quantico’s walls._

_God, her life sounded like a Stephen King thriller when she lumped everything together in one thought like that.  But she knew what she was doing and what she told them was enough._

_Traumatic stories had a funny way of making people uncomfortable.  In general, people like to avoid confrontational and uncomfortable subject matters if they have a choice.  This group wasn’t that different from most people._

_They were all sad and felt awful when she shared that she grew up in an orphanage, and that she had a ‘rough’ upbringing.  Sure, that spurred questions internally in them, but they didn’t know her well enough to ask.  They didn’t want to pry, and quite honestly, they just didn’t know what to say.  So, they displayed the normal patterns of human behavior– a few ‘I’m so sorry’ exchanges, a couple sad stares, a few hugs, and a set of tears from Wanda._

_They each drew their own conclusions, connecting the loosely formed dots she had placed – a troubled childhood and military woman to a private individual who is talented with weapons and combat skills.  It made sense because what she said **was** true, and because they wanted it to make sense.  _

_What was also true, was that she was glad she shared the small portions she did with everyone else.  Steve wasn’t the only person she was starting to feel connected to.  She couldn’t label it yet in her own mind, because she never felt this type of platonic human connection before.  Not in the Navy where she focused, and worked, and served, avoiding distractions.  And definitely not from her upbringing._

_What Natasha was experiencing for the first time outside of the comfort of Steven Grant Rogers, was friendship._

_Bucky knew of Steve’s troubled past with an abusive father because he shared it and was with him every step of the way practically.  He also shared the desire for privacy, and was reluctant to share those memories with just anyone…so he laid off any questions he had about Natasha to his brother._

_In his mind, Steve was incredibly happy, he liked Romanoff from what he knew of her, and he actually thought the two of them made a lot of sense now.  All he told Steve, after Natasha shared what she did, was, “I’m really glad you two found each other.  I think she’s actually good for your old, tired ass.  And you seem to be good for her too,” as he patted him on the back.  It was a huge relief to Steve._

_As far as the risk of avoiding getting distracted at Quantico…well that turned out to be a little more difficult._

_Before Natasha opened up to Steve, and before their relationship shifted, they were around each other all the time as ‘friends,’ as delusional as that notion truly was, looking back._

_Now, they were inseparable.  They stayed on task in the classroom and during training, they never missed a run, and they continued to put their extra session hours in before the day started or after the day was done.  So as far as their work as FBI trainees went, they were still at the top of the class, excelling in each area._

_But as far as not being distracted by one another in general, they failed miserably._

_And everyone noticed._

_Natasha and Steve pretty much avoided any and all contact with one another during their first month at Quantico, so their friends only had to suffer through steamy and heated glances towards one another, which still caused Wanda, Maria, and even a couple of the men to blush at times._

_Over the next six weeks, Natasha and Steve tried to be as careful as they could in public.  They really did, but they weren’t just inseparable in the amount of time they spent with each other anymore._

_Their bodies were like magnets whenever they were in a social setting.  While they never kissed each other in front of anyone, Natasha and Steve would always end up with their thighs nudging, shoulders grazing, fingers interlocked, or feet intertwined.  To be frank, they were always touching.  Eventually, everyone else acclimated to their closeness and began thinking of them almost as one person._

_Even though no one ever caught them making out, doesn’t mean there wasn’t evidence._

_Two weeks after their relationship changed, Maria and Wanda noticed a few marks on Natasha’s neck in the locker room.  She blushed, they laughed and rolled their eyes, and helped her cover them up._

_Three weeks after, Sam and Bucky walked into their bedroom in the evening, early from another campfire because of a rainstorm, and caught Steve and Natasha pulling apart from each other quicker than a Band-Aid being ripped off.  Natasha made it look like she was reading a Men’s Journal magazine.  She probably could have pulled it off too, but Steve looked like he was a cat with a canary in his mouth._

_The whole scene was comical._

_“Riggghht…I think I’m going to go see if anyone is in the lounge,” Sam said as he grinned at the two of them.  Bucky wanted to make his brother squirm a little, “Hey Steve, did you get attacked by a wild animal since I last saw you at dinner an hour ago?”_

_Natasha lifted her head from the magazine that she clearly was only staring at, and quirked an eyebrow at Bucky.  Her eyes popped as she looked over and saw fingernail scratches on Steve’s biceps and a very large hickey on his neck.  Those tips Maria and Wanda gave her on covering up her marks would come in helpful._

_She smirked at the idea as she hid behind the magazine again._

_Bucky grabbed his chest as he literally laughed his ass off, “Oh right.  I think I heard on the news that a red-haired Romanoff was on the loose nearby.”  Steve’s face turned bright red as Bucky ran out the door, and Steve attempted to throw a shoe at him._

_“Who throw’s a shoe, Rogers?” Natasha joked as Steve said, “You know what, Romanoff?”_

_They hadn’t gone any further than their actions in the alley by the bar.  That doesn’t mean their patience wasn’t tested._

_Steve spent a lot of late evenings in Natasha’s room, but he never slept over unless Sam and Bucky were drinking with everyone or had passed out in one of the other guys’ rooms.  On the rare occasion he did spend the night, they were as tender with each other as the first evening._

_It didn’t stop their friends from joking.  The men gave Steve a hard time privately, suggesting he was getting laid regularly, no matter how many times he tried to deflect or deny.  The women weren’t any more prudish and often made Natasha blush with questions regarding stamina, positions, and size.  She tried to deflect and deny too._

_No one believed either one of them._

_“Come on Steve, they already think we’re having sex…why don’t we make our friends honest,” Natasha grinned._

_“Okay, first we’re not letting those idiots determine anything.  Second, I don’t want our first time to possibly be interrupted by anyone here, Nat,” Steve would repeatedly tell Natasha._

_“Oh, come on Rogers, I promise I can be quiet,” she would tease.  He rolled his eyes and she would continue, “Or maybe I’m not the one that needs to work on being quiet,” causing Steve to blush._

_A variation of that conversation played out quite a few times following when she opened up to him.  A couple of times, when their hormones were really firing, she pulled off her gloves and played dirty, “Come on Steve, don’t you want me?”_

_He would groan in frustration, and finally got her to stop by saying, “Nat, come on.  You **know** that couldn’t be farther from the truth.  It’s just…look, we’ve been with other people, but I’ve never felt this way before about someone before.  I just want it to be special for us.  I want it to be right.”_

_He was saying something they both felt without actually saying the words._

_She pulled him into a passionate kiss after that.  They knew they’d be together soon enough when the timing was right._

_In the meantime, they enjoyed getting to know each other more than they already had.  The night Natasha revealed her tormented past to Steve, their connection deepened further than either one of them ever thought possible.  It was almost like their hearts became tethered together._

_Natasha revealed harrowing memories from the orphanage and her teenage years.  Nothing too specific yet, but it still meant a lot to Steve.  She also shared more about Clint and the love they had for each other.  Steve shared war stories, more memories of his father, and his fears about not being able to protect the ones closest to him._

_As for the risk of Natasha’s past and those people being able to harm her, Steve, or his family…_

_Denial could be a beautiful thing when everything seems to be going well.  They were isolated right now.  It still hung over their heads, and he still had questions, but he kept his promise and didn’t push.  She was opening up to him on her time, and he figured, as long as no one knew that he knew, they were safe.  Some of the risks had been mitigated, some were thrown out the window, and some were still at large._

_Outside of their closeness, the group of 11 trainees really began to gel as a whole during that time period as well.  Natasha felt like she was part of something and it filled a void in different ways than Steve’s affection did.  It made her almost forget sometimes.  It made her feel normal.  A lot of the evenings were spent around campfires, in the lounges of the dormitories, playing games, watching movies, and hanging out in each other’s rooms._

_Within their group of friends, individuals started showing their own talents in the field and in the classroom as well._

_Wanda and Loki excelled in operations planning and anything technical and computer related.  No one held a candle to their ability to code, hack, and program for individual situations they were studying.  It was obvious the two of them would end up as analysts or IT leads for teams someday._

_Maria’s savviness shined as she networked with the trainers and staff at Quantico, while Banner excelled at interpersonal communications and academics.  They both knew how to read people in different settings.  Thor was incredibly smart, so much more than what people thought early on.  He was a physical force, but was tired from fighting and preferred gathering intel on people and working behind the scenes more.  And Stark and Rhodey showed an affinity toward pushing the lines on interviewing tactics, operations of missions, and intel gathering._

_As for Steve’s roommates, Sam almost became a surrogate brother to him and Bucky.  The three of them became incredibly close, and played off of each other’s strengths.  Their strengths were in field ops along with Natasha.  Weapons, combat, tactical skills, mission planning.  They were the adrenaline junkies of the group, and their skills only improved both individually and as a team as time went on._

_At the beginning of the second and third month, the initial fitness tests were given again as well as the weapons, combat, and boxing assessments they performed when they first arrived at Quantico.  In addition, new discipline areas of polygraphing, interrogation techniques, and intel gathering were tested.  Every one of the 11 individuals had improved from their previous assessments and had passed the new tests with flying colors.  Their competitiveness rose too, and everyone else started practicing early in the morning or late at night, just like Steve and Natasha._

_Fury was beginning to see he had a very special team of individuals in his hands._

_So, six weeks had passed after their night out, and the everyone found themselves at the mid-way point of the five-month training program.  This was marked by two things.  The first was a trust exercise that would be completed at the end of the week.  The second, much to everyone’s anticipation, was a full-weekend off.  It would be their first.  Some had planned trips home and others had family coming in to visit._

_After a little convincing from Maria and Natasha and Loki, Wanda even broke down and finally agreed to go out with the one and only James Buchanan Barnes over their free weekend, since neither one of them would be leaving.  She wasn’t ready to call it a date just yet, but Bucky didn’t care.  He did a double take when she finally said yes, and wouldn’t shut up about it that evening to Steve and Sam as they stayed up late talking._

_Steve had something else in mind for their weekend off.  He had planned a special getaway.  He and Natasha were finally going to be completely alone with each other, and they couldn’t wait._

_They just had to get through the week and the trust exercise first._

* * *

**Present Day –** Driving

89 mph. 

That’s what Steve’s speedometer read.  Or at least that’s what he thought he read.  Everything was fuzzy as his adrenaline took over his body.  His eyes were burning, his heart was pounding, and his throat was dry as his saliva seemed to drain to his stomach where acid churned into bile.  Steve swallowed, forcing those knots in his intestines to bury any threats of nausea deep within its own caverns, so he could focus. 

Focus.  Focus on the words that Loki said, ‘ _six hours.’_  With the time that had passed since he ran out of HQ, away from his friends…and away from his family, he had just over an hour of driving left to reach the destination.  That meant he should have a little over four hours to spare.

Destination.

Spare.

Natasha. 

Words that meant something to look forward to, something to save, _someone_ that was supposed to be in his life.

“Goddammit!” he screamed, his face tightening again as he was unable to stop the outpouring of his racing thoughts.  He rid himself of his angry tears as soon as they escaped him, leaving FBI headquarters.  He couldn’t cry again right now.  He wouldn’t cry right now, because that meant he was allowing himself to feel a little bit of hope, and he couldn’t take that feeling. 

He couldn’t. 

The last 18 months had devoured all hope.  It had devoured _him_ and spat out the man racing against time right now.  So no, he couldn’t let himself feel an ounce of faith until he knew for sure. 

So he soaked up the anger he felt…No, this wasn’t just anger.  The _rage_ he felt was now at the top of the food chain of emotions.  He yelled again with his knuckles white, gripping the steering wheel.

Lingering just beneath the surface of that rage, was the muddled mess of emotions ready to make their presence known.  His pain and agony and sorrow…and regret.  Feelings that consumed him over the last 18 months…ever since those goddamn pictures. 

Fuck, in reality, he’d been tormenting himself ever since she left, well before 18 months ago.  But right now, he focused on the rage.  It was Afghanistan all over again.  It was his childhood with his father again, hearing his and his mother’s and Bucky’s cries.  It was _her_ death again.  Rage was a feeling he could control in this exact moment, because he’d been quietly dealing with it his whole life.  It was strong enough to dominate momentarily, and caused him to yes, focus.  It caused him to drive forward. 

He would deal with the crash and fallout after, when his rage once again dissipated, leaving him in a cesspool of pain and hurt.    

‘ _Six hours.’_ He heard Loki’s voice again and looked at the clock – only a few minutes had passed since he last looked.  Steve felt like a ticking time bomb was waiting to go off at the end of that six hours…he felt like _he_ was a ticking time bomb, ready to go off at any second. 

‘ _God, Please…Let her…’_

“NO!” Steve yelled again. 

He wasn’t going to pray to himself again.  Prayer lead to hope.  He wasn’t going to spend his time on foolish wishes to save her…not anymore.  He’d spent endless hours and sometimes days, on godforsaken prayers to bring her back, and it brought him nothing.  Prayers were useless…They had been for a while.

If this was true.  If what Loki said was real, then he was going to fucking do this himself.  And if it _was_ true, he was prepared to do anything to save her.

Steve’s team couldn’t track him.  He had quickly disconnected the GPS unit from his car and had shut off his phone.  He was on his own. 

Steve could stop his real emotions from overtaking him as he focused on the surface level, flash of anger and rage.  He could stop his almost involuntary prayers.  He could stop his friends and brother from finding him.  What he _couldn’t_ stop though, was where he was going - the place they were together, two years ago. 

And he couldn’t stop himself from remembering the last time he made this drive to see her, either.

* * *

_**2 Years Ago –** _

_Steve was speeding towards his destination after he received the last message from ‘HackerJacker.’_

_He remembered telling Natasha long ago in their Quantico days, about a campground 20 miles outside of the city.  His mom took him and Bucky to it as kids after his father died, and then several other times after because they had such a good time._

_Happy memories were created here between his real family as a young child, after a world of pain and hurt were bestowed on them.  For that reason alone, it was a place of peace.  A place of solitude.  A place of growth.  Those memories were moments of joy after a sea of torment._

_And he had shared all of that with Natasha long ago, so this place absolutely had to be it.  And while his brother and mom obviously knew about the place, they would have no idea that Steve had told Natasha about it, or that it could be a rendezvous for them.  It was better this way.  He was on his own here._

_The campground had these cabins on the property with the bare necessities for people that liked to camp, but who also wanted to have a wall and roof instead of a being outside at night.  Sarah Rogers could never afford to actually rent one when they were here as a family, so they always used their tent.  But, Steve always remembered wanting to see them inside._

_He knew.  He knew with every fiber of his being that Natasha would be in one of them tonight._

_An hour later he made his way through traffic and out of the city, Steve arrived at the campground.  His palms were sweaty with anticipation of the thought that he might actually see her again._

_‘How can you forgive her and actually want to see her tonight?  After all she’s done?  You know you should arrest her and bring her in, Rogers,’ Steve scratched his beard as he became irritated at his own thoughts._

_This is how it had been.  The power of their past versus his convictions, and power won._

_Moral and righteous?  When he was younger, he could never dream he would waiver on those traits.  After meeting her a decade ago?  Down the rabbit hole he went, away from black and white thinking, into complexities of muddled grey – especially when it came to her._

_No matter how much he tried to tell himself he should uphold the laws of this country, he knew deep down that it wasn’t going to play out that way tonight._

_It was cold out and the campground was bare.  A few RV campers were present, but none of the cabins had cars outside of them.  He parked in the main parking lot, not wanting to draw any attention, and walked down a narrow dirt path that led to the cabins.  He looked at all of them, and nothing stood out - they were empty._

_He turned around to look back at the campers.  Although there were lights on in them, he knew he wouldn’t find her there.  Natasha did not bring an RV here, that he was sure of.  He looked back at the parking lot and saw nothing out of the ordinary there either._

_He closed his eyes and pleaded to the stars and whatever power was listening, “Please let me be right about this.”_

_Steve opened his eyes, and as he saw his breath in the moonlight from the cold air, he turned around again to look at the cabins.  A flicker of light appeared and then disappeared just as fast.  It looked like a match in the small wooden cabin, furthest away from him, and he grinned.  His nerves took over in his body, and the tingling sensation spread through each of his limbs._

_He approached the cabin slowly, anticipating that anything was possible.  He heard his breathing increase as puffs of air came out of his mouth, meeting the crisp air.  Steve finished his approach, climbing two wooden stairs to a small porch, unable to avoid the creaking sounds of the old boards beneath him._

_His breath hitched as he turned the knob to open the door to the dark room inside.  He glanced around and could see nothing but darkness.  The faint scent of sulphur lingered in the air.  Steve shut the door, stepped forward into the dark space, and moved to the window.  He tried to see what the vantage point was from where the match was lit.  He stared out into the darkness of the campground, and he noticed the cabin wasn’t that much warmer than outside as his breath was still visible._

_Suddenly, a shiver ran down his spine as an object dropped down from the rafter in the cabin._

_A quiet thud hit the floor behind him, and as soon as he was about to turn around, he heard the unmistakable click that every cop fears.  The cold barrel of a gun, a Sig Sauer 45 from what he could tell, was pressed to the back of his head as the weapon was cocked.  He heard her voice say, “Hands up, Rogers.”_

_Steve’s breathing stopped for a moment at the sound of her evocative voice as he raised his hands._

_“Stay where you are.  I need to make sure you’re not wired,” she spoke again._

_“Jesus Christ, Natasha, I didn’t come here to take you in,” Steve spoke over her._

_He felt the gun press harder into his head as she said, “Do you really think you’d be able to take me anywhere I didn’t want to go willingly, Rogers?”_

_‘Still so fucking stubborn.’ He said to himself._

_He was annoyed.  He was angry and fucking pissed off right now, but she had the gun on him.  He knew if she was here tonight, she’d be alone, so he left his gun in his vehicle on purpose…to avoid her feeling like a cornered animal.  She clearly didn’t do the same.  Steve relented and stepped forward to the side of the window, putting his hands against the wall so she could frisk him._

_They were both done talking right now.  They were both on edge in this game of chess if you could call it that.  It was more like a game of chicken on crack.  Keeping one hand on her gun against him, she moved closer._

_His bodily senses went haywire.  The only sounds in the cabin right now, were the quiet repetitions of their breaths.  He could barely see anything.  His nostrils were infected with the smell of wood and sulphur and night air, and the familiar scent of shampoo and skin and everything…that was so distinctly her.  It brought him back to the night they first ran into each other._

_He sucked everything in and let the intoxicating smell overtake him for a moment as he let out a large breath.  He disguised it as frustration for her patting him down, but his body was twisted in knots on the inside._

_Keeping one hand on her gun now pressed into the center of his back, she moved closer to feel his body for anything suspicious.  She started at the back of his neck with her free hand.  Moving around his collar, she made her way to the front to his throat, scraping over his beard.  He couldn’t help but respond, digging his fingers into the wooden wall._

_Natasha moved her hand down his side.  He could feel the weight of her body pushing into the gun as she reached around and started grazing the front of his coat._

_“Unzip the jacket,” she commanded._

_He could laugh.  Honestly, he could laugh if he didn’t feel like spitting in anger._

_He followed her orders as he braced himself against the wall with one arm now and unzipped himself, leaving the flaps open.  Her tiny hand reached inside, feeling the warmth of his body through his shirt.  The cold metal of the gun and the feeling of her breathe on the back of his neck caused such a contrast of emotions.  He wanted to scream at her, but instead, she had Steve balling his hands into fists._

_Anger and something else burned inside of him, causing him to feel warm._

_She shifted the weight of her body, so she could repeat the same movements down his other side.  The warmth he felt a minute ago now spread through his entire body.  Her knee was pressed between his thighs and forced him to open his stance as she moved to his lower half._

_As she crept around his waist, he swore under his breath.  Every fucking memory with her flashed before him as he heard the tiny ping of her nails skating against the metal of his belt.  It was like he was one of Pavlov’s dogs, and she had just rung._

_Moving slowly around the hem of his shirt, she ghosted over his stomach, and he exhaled a little louder in frustration.  She finished by moving each hand up and down his thighs, groin, and calves.  Putting some space between them finally, she moved back and released the threat of the weapon._

_“Jesus Natasha, was that really fucking necessary?” Steve said as he turned around._

_Natasha took a step forward, so they could both see each other’s eyes in the moonlight coming through the window.  The air escaping from their mouths was still visible, “Yes it was, Rogers.  I needed to make sure you were here under your own free will.”_

_He couldn’t hold it in.  Steve let out a maddening laugh.  An actual laugh, filled with disbelief._

_“You know, it’s funny Natasha.  If there is one person in this room who should be suspicious about the other one’s motives, it’s me.”_

_A few seconds of silence, and then the slightest of grins formed on her face.  She held up her hands, put the gun down on the ground by the window, and returned to where she just stood, “Okay Steven, that’s fair.”_

_His eyes took her in for the first time – hair up, and dressed head to toe in a sweatshirt, jeans, and boots – all in black._

_He groaned in frustration as his hand ran over his face before finding her eyes with his again.  Their stare lingered for a few seconds, as the familiar feeling of tension rose.  “Now what, Natasha?  You led me to a place from my childhood that I told you about a long time ago.  For what?”_

_Her tough exterior melted away as Natasha looked down at the ground nervously, “You tell me Steve.  You’ve been working relentlessly to find me.  You could’ve gotten yourself killed in the process, so I wanted to head it off at the pass to be safe.  I wanted to see what you wanted.”_

_“To see what I wanted…” Steve started to say.  He paused as he took a second to pinch the bridge of his nose.  He didn’t want any of this.  What he wanted was everything to be the way it was…before it turned to shit.  But that wasn’t possible._

_Steve felt the anger in his stomach rise, “You talk like I didn’t know who I was trying to track down, Natasha.  Let’s get something out in the open, okay?  This isn’t 10 years ago at Quantico.  This isn’t HQ at the New York Office.  This isn’t like anytime when we had a fucking life together.  You don’t have the wool pulled over my eyes anymore.  And believe me, I thought long and hard about arresting you here tonight if I really did find you.”_

_She looked up at him, and he noticed how her expression had changed.  The suspicion had melted away, leaving those goddamn green eyes staring up at him, vulnerably.  Suddenly it was like no time had passed, and he was staring at her for the first time again.  And just like then and all of the other times after, he felt like a moth being drawn to a flame._

_It was unstoppable.  It was magnetic.  It **might** hurt him, but he didn’t care anymore._

_“Goddamnit Natasha.  Don’t look at me like that.  I’m so angry with you…Do you have any idea what I’ve been through?”_

_Natasha answered softly, “I have some idea Steve.  I put myself through the same hell when I left you the last time…You have no idea how hard…”_

_He cut her off as his pain and spite and anger seeped through, “I highly doubt that, Natasha.  You want to know the truth?  I’ve accepted it, so I’ll fill you in.  You have been lying to me for over a decade. Ever since the moment we ran into each other on that trail.”_

_His eyes were furious, and he felt a little out of control as another laugh escaped his lips again, “It’s pretty fitting don’t you think?  Our relationship started on lies 10 years ago…when you told me your name was Nadia.  And now here we are again, more or less having the same fucking argument.”_

_Her eyes glistened as his words cut deep within her, “Steve, you know it wasn’t all lies.”_

_He shook his head, putting his hand over his eyes like he was trying to wipe away the stress.  A headache was starting to surface within him as the collision of their memories together and this fucked up situation came to a head._

_“Do you know how many times I’ve heard some version of that line from you, Natasha?” He almost sounded defeated._

_She spoke again, with almost a whimper in her voice, “Steve, I know you hate me.  I know I’ve made so many mistakes with you.  And I’ve lied countless times to you.  But I also know that you believe me, deep down, when I tell you that everything that happened between us.  Everything that mattered was the truth.”_

_She stepped forward and found a little more strength, “I let you in my life more than I ever should have.  I abandoned who I was trained to be, what I was trained to do, and I told you things about my life that I never should have.  It was reckless, and I put you in danger.”_

_They were both digging their heels in, in this Catch 22 of a conversation._

_Steve raised his voice a little, “Everything that mattered?  The truth matters, Natasha!  What you did matters.  You can’t gloss over that.  You say you were reckless, and put me in danger.  Fuck that…and fuck your bullshit.  I have run over those words so many times in the last two years.  What I am not going to do, is have this same conversation with you from the last time I was able to track you down.”_

_She flinched at his words.  No matter how much she had hurt him, they still had a hold over each other.  That was undeniable.  His harshness stabbed at that connection, and her heart hurt too.  “I don’t know that I have any different answers for you, Steve.  Why did you try and find me again, after I left you in Russia two years ago?  I thought you would have hated me enough to stay away.”  Natasha looked down, and he could see a tear fall from her face._

_Damn…he hated to see her cry, no matter how mad he was.  His heart was hurting too, invisibly bleeding from pain._

_“Don’t you get it, Natasha.  I hate a lot of things.  I hate the lies that you’ve told me over the last decade.  I hate that you continued to deceive me.  I hate that you told me…you told me, you wanted to be with me forever and made me believe we would be.  I hate that you actually joined the FBI after graduating, solidifying our team and family, before you betrayed all of us.  And I **hate** that for some reason, I keep lying to my team.  I keep breaking the law, by not being able to bring you in.”  _

_He wanted to stay angry, but it was fading fast, “But what I could never hate is you.  I wish I could, believe me.”_  
  
_She chewed on her lip and looked up at him, pissed off as ever, from his words.  He was caught off guard as she stepped forward and aggressively shoved him, “Why Steve?  Why don’t you hate me?  I hate myself.”_

_It was instinctual.  He grabbed her hands as they shoved into his chest, and held onto her wrists as if their lives depended on it.  “If I have to explain it, Natasha…” Steve started, his voice cracking a little as he licked his lips._

_“I want to hear it, Steve,” Natasha pleaded as her own voice hitched in the back of her throat.  They were both gluttons for punishment when it came to each other.  When they were good, they were more than great.  When they were bad…it was awful and so complicated, but they still wanted each other.  Almost more._

_Steve couldn’t stop looking at her eyes, still holding onto her, “I’ll say it again, Natasha.  Don’t you get it?  You’ve ruined me.  You were it.  It’s like you’re a drug to me, and I’ve been in withdrawal ever since you left me and the FBI five years ago.  God, I tried to move on after that.  I tried so damn hard, but I can’t.  Two years ago in Russia only made that clear and caused me to relapse.  I’ve been desperate to find you ever since.”_

_He was lost in the past.  In his memories.  In her stare and he loosened his hold._

_She pulled away, feeling her defenses wither.  They both felt naked and cold without any contact._

_She spoke, “I was taught all my life to hate.  Hate this government.  Hate democratic ideals.  I was taught to hate people like you.  But I wanted freedom in my life, Steve.  I started to find that when I joined the Navy.  But when I met you, you made me really believe it.  You made me believe that I could actually live.  You weren’t just a drug to me, Steve.  You were poison to my entire existence.”_

_He missed her.  So. Damn. Much._

_Natasha wiped away several tears as Steve stepped closer._

_“Steve, my past wasn’t going to let me have the life I wanted with you.  It was going to catch up and hurt you and everyone I learned to love and trust.  I knew you wouldn’t let me go, so I had to let **you** go to keep you safe.” _

_Steve responded, “We’re closing in, Nat.  The FBI is getting closer to bringing down some of the people in your life.  Just come back with me, and I’ll figure out a way to make it right for you.”  To make it right…he sounded so convincing, that he almost believed himself._

_“Always my protector, Soldier.”_

_It was silly really.  The fact that he finally called her ‘Nat,’ and she called him ‘Soldier.’  But it made the hairs stand up on their neck.  They were such terms of endearment for both of them, and they packed an emotional punch._

_But Natasha was stubborn.  She always had been, “Don’t you see, Steve?  There is no making this right for me.  The light at the end of this tunnel is you finally moving on and living a life without me…Without your drug in it.”_

_She stepped away from him, turning her back as tears were falling faster down her cheek now._

_They were opposite in so many ways, but in the ones that counted the most, they were the same.  Steve was just as stubborn as her.  Every bit, and even more at times._

_“That has never been your call to make Natasha.  I’ve tried to fight you, arrest you, hate you, and here I am now, helpless in front of you.  Don’t **you** see?  There is no light in my future without you in it.”  He moved closer again, within an arm’s reach.  _

_He reached down, gently grabbing her shoulder to turn her around and face him.  To face **this.**_

* * *

_The damn had burst._

_They felt raw and vulnerable.  Their feelings had crept towards the surface for the last hour._

_Feeling his hand on her, she turned around.  His fingers pressed into her shoulder as she looked to where they were touching.  Her eyes travelled up his arm, and met his, begging her to feel what he was in that very moment._

_She did feel it.  She was ready to give in, and he couldn’t fight it anymore.  Not as the tension and pull between them increased to an insufferable level as they stared at each other._

_A few more seconds passed, and that was it.  The surface shattered with their emotions, and their hands were everywhere._

_Natasha shoved Steve's jacket off instantly as he seized her by both arms, pulling her to him.  Their lips collided with urgency as his incredibly strong hands found their way around her back.  She grasped the back of his neck, holding on tight, as the weight of their bodies pressed against each other._

_Their mouths were searching.  Searching for everything that was lost over the years._

_Their kisses were warm, and then became hot as their humid breathing enveloped them in a fog.  The chilled air in the cabin clashing with the heat between them - it was dizzying and addictive all at the same time.  Steve, in his short-sleeved undershirt, felt her nipples poking through her thin sweatshirt as she leaned into his chest.  A low groan came out of him, and she could feel the vibrations, and all that was behind his sound, against her lips._

_It had been so long and their yearning for each other was dripping from every part of them._

_His hands slid down to one of his favorite parts of her, the small of her back.  He pulled her tightly against him, following the curvature of her spine, until he was under her sweatshirt and digging into the warm flesh above her narrow waist._

_Any remaining space between them was erased from existence._

_His body was like a furnace, hovering over her, and she couldn’t get enough as she felt surrounded by him.  She was all kinds of hot and bothered by the time her knee moved between his legs, nudging the center of his jeans._

_She moaned right back into his mouth, feeling how hard he already was.  She knew she was just as aroused.  She could feel it as her body became warmer.  She broke away from their kiss for a moment and looked up at him._

_They had jumped over all of their hesitancy, into tonight, and were willingly falling into each other.  They could see it in their eyes.  As much as he knew he shouldn’t, he wanted every part of this.  And she needed him.  She felt like she needed him more than anything in the entirety of her life._

_She dug into the skin on his neck as she purred into his ear, “I need you, Steve.”_

_He grew harder and budged his hips against her, causing her to suck at his earlobe.  He shut his eyes at the sensation, as her mouth skimmed down his neck with feathered kisses, until she was at his collar.  She licked from the hollow base under his Adam’s apple, scraping along his beard, all the way up to his chin where she nipped at him._

_The hair along his neck felt like sandpaper on her tongue, and it was a delicious sensation.  She wanted to feel that friction on her skin.  She wanted him to paint her red with rough scratches as he rubbed his beard all over her body._

_Natasha was a mess inside, and her thoughts were dirty.  She knew he was thinking just as filthily as he drove his hips against her, harder this time, while he leaned down to suck on her bottom lip.  Just like in their past, everything about them was so fucking overwhelming and provocative, that they couldn’t get enough of it._

_They never could._

_She pushed back against his hips, causing them both to groan as she broke away with a heavy breath, wanton and panting, "I need you now.”   Hearing the pleading in her voice, he couldn’t wait any longer.  He needed her too.  The air shifted around them, into something more frantic as the anticipation built._

_His hands slid down further as he burrowed his fingers into the plump flesh of her ass and hoisted her up instantly as she wrapped her legs around him._

_Steve carried her, fumbling through the dark space, almost tripping over an uneven floorboard, trying to find a surface.  Trying to find anything to help them be closer.  They were giving in, and it was like a vacuum had sucked all the toxicity out of the air for the moment.  A giddy laugh escaped her lips as she fell into the familiarity and whispered into his ear, "Table. Over there.”_

_Their bodies were communicating with each other like no time had passed.  They were always good at **this.**_

_Steve reached the big oak slab and kicked away a chair with one of his legs so he could lay her down. He almost lost his balance, but she reached back with one hand and braced her arm on the surface to steady them. The angle caused her to roll her hips against his stomach as her ass jutted south, delving into his hardened erection._

_The friction caused a throaty sound to push out of Steve, that only caused her to squeeze her thighs harder.  “Nat,” he breathed as he held her close for a second longer._

_There was a sheet across the table that Steve removed with a swipe of his free hand, tightly holding onto her waist with the other._

_The sheet fell to the floor, along with the rest of their barriers about what was going to happen, as Steve finally laid Natasha flat against the wooden surface.  She looked up at him, chewing on her fat lower lip, breathing heavily through her nose.  As her back hit the table, she felt how ready he was for her._

_They knew where this was going.  They tried to deny it to themselves, but both Steve and Natasha knew they’d end up here in some way, shape, or form the moment they both entered the chat room together._

_Their eyes were in a trance, connected, and feeling every movement between each other’s breaths.  Rational thoughts were gone, and all that remained was a desperation to feel all of each other again._

_Her chest perked up toward him as she scooted back on the table.  He knelt on the edge of the hard surface and moved both of his hands under her shirt.  Her nerves were sputtering as his fingers ran up her stomach and trailed the ridges of her ribs as she looked at him with now darkened eyes._

_The callouses of his fingers touched her cotton sports bra.  It was damp from perspiration that was forming on her chest.  It was like she was emitting pheromones as he bent over for a second to inhale the scent of her sweat, licking the dampened fabric around her protruding nipples beneath._

_Yes, dirty thoughts were running rampant in both of them._

_He worked his hands under the elastic band of her bra, forcing his fingers beneath and found her breasts.  His palms covered them with worship at first, claiming them as his again, after they'd been missing from his grasp for so long._

_Steve wasn’t afraid to admit that he could almost cry right now.  The anguish he had felt.  The longing and loneliness he had felt, having her gone from his life – it was all being sucked from his system like venom removed from a snakebite.  He dove into that relief.  It was all that mattered in this smattering of time together.  Because right now, he couldn’t give a fuck about rules and laws and lies and anything else.  She was in his arms, and that was all that mattered._

_Feeling her swells of soft skin in his hands, he pushed her further back, to the middle of the table, and lifted himself, moving his knees fully between her legs._

_Holding himself over her, only an inch from her face, he squeezed around her nipples.  With his eyes boring straight into hers, she arched her back, pushing her pink buds into his palms._

_His thumbs brushed over her peaks, causing her head to roll back with enough force to hit the table.  She moaned, "Steve, your hands. God, I've missed them.”  And she did.  She missed the mass and strength of them…how he could grip her as hard as he possibly could, yet make her feel so safe in his arms._

_She wrapped her legs around his waist again, looping her fingers through his jeans, and pulled his body fully against hers.  As his weight pressed down, she could feel his cock bulging through his jeans, against her groin.  She lifted her head up to find his lips again and whimpered into his mouth._

_Natasha’s teeth raked against his bottom lip as he rutted against her core.  She bit down, harder than expected, and he jerked his head back to stare._

_There was a hunger there.  He felt it too.  They wanted to devour each other and leave nothing behind._

_The tantalizing pain from her bite had him groaning as he licked his lips before pushing himself back into her mouth with a bruising kiss.  Their tongues found each other finally, and embattled the other in a dance.  As their teeth clashed and nipped, they consumed each other’s saliva, thrusting wet fluid between their mouths.  It wasn’t pretty or graceful._

_It was perfection._

_The heat was radiating between their bodies as Steve bucked into her hips, causing a cry to escape her throat, going straight into his mouth._

_Steve needed more._

_He pulled away from her lips.  She tried to chase him, but he moved his hand from her breast to cup her face and hold her in place, silently telling her to stay._

_Steve covered her jawline with wet and warm kisses and started going lower.  He moved down to her neck and sucked against his favorite spot there, the pulsing vein where he could sense her heartbeat.  He could feel her lifeblood beneath his lips and his erection became painful as she lifted her hips against him again._

_Natasha was burning up, feeling his beard along her neck.  She needed him everywhere at once as she ran her hands through his hair, slicking them with his sweat, and whimpered again, "Steve, now. We can do this all later.”_

_He lifted his head and gazed into her with hooded eyes.  He wanted to take his time, but it wasn’t going to happen.  They were too desperate.  There had been **too** much time that had passed.  Steve and Natasha finally stopped thinking with their heads and logic and everything the world told them to think, as they gave into their hearts’ pleas.  Their bodies were controlling them now…not the other way around.  _

_With a dark look, he paused only for a moment as he questioned silently to her, grazing his thumb along her cheek.  She read him perfectly, shaking her head.  She knew what he was asking…if they needed protection.  “I have my IUD…We don’t need one, soldier.  Nothing’s changed.”_

_‘Nothing’s changed.’_

_Just for a second, Steve shut his eyes and let those words sink in, thinking about how they couldn’t be further from the truth.  If he let himself think, this whole thing could unravel quickly as his heartache threatened to reappear._

_Natasha saw it and felt it too, but nothing was going to stop them.  She ran her hand over his beard and brushed her thumb under his eye, causing him to look at her again, shedding the prodding pain away._

_They **needed** this.  _

_She moved her thumb along his mouth, letting it trace his plump lower lip.  His Adam’s apple moved as he took her thumb into his mouth and sucked as she said through a rasped breath, “Трахни меня, Стив.”_

_She didn’t even realize the words had slipped out in Russian.  He sucked harder on her thumb and groaned, hearing her native language.  He always loved hearing her speak it.  She stared at him and realized the slip of her tongue and repeated herself, "Fuck me, Steve.”_

_The tension in the air around them was excruciatingly thick as she added, “Please.”_

_Her begging tone unhinged any ounce of control they had left._

_He grunted as they kicked off their shoes, and he reached for the button on her pants.  He could feel how warm and ready she was just by hovering over her center through her jeans.  The aroma from her, wafted into his senses.  He leaned closer, breathing her in and placing a gentle kiss through her jeans.  Something akin to a mewl left her mouth as she bucked against his lips._

_A hungry smirk formed on him as they looked at each other.  And then Natasha was fumbling with his belt.  The clanging sound it made against the button of his jeans was driving her crazy.  They were both Pavlov’s dogs right now, salivating ravenously for each other._

_He almost ripped opened her pants as he took no time unzipping them, and yanked them and her cotton panties down from her ass in one swift move.  He pulled her legs free from the denim, unrestricting her movement, as she released her hair from her ponytail._

_The smell of her shampoo and sweat and everything about her had made him drunk with lust already, but as he removed her underwear, exposing her warm curls of hair and the scent of her need for him, it became overwhelming._

_She was beyond ready for all of him as he reached down to feel what he had dreamed about since the last time he touched her._

_Natasha finally got his buckle un-done, and couldn’t unzip him fast enough.  The sound of the metal teeth opening caused her to dig her nails into his bicep with her free hand.  Her fingers reached for his waistline, making him shudder.   She slid his pants and boxers down as he helped her get them all the way off._

_She lifted her hips again as his fingers grazed the inside of her thigh.  They both trembled as he moved toward her mound, finally reaching her wet, hot center.  No matter how many times they’d done this, it didn’t matter.  Every time his fingers finally touched her in their throws of passion, nothing could compare to the relief, the sensation, and the intimacy of first contact._

_His callouses brushed over her soft curls and dipped into her slick folds, rubbing as her soaked sound reverberated in the air.  A drop of sweat from his brow dripped onto her mouth, and she savored it with her tongue._

_He watched her eyes flutter as he sunk all the way inside her, "God, Nat.  Every day.  Every fucking day I’ve thought about you.”_

_Her hands pushed against his stomach, chasing more pressure, as she felt his thick fingers start to move. First it was one, slowly caressing the length of her, coating himself in her wetness.  Then two entered her moist core, and she cried out.  As she heard the sensual sounds of his fingers and her desire, she knew she couldn’t take it anymore._

_Natasha shook her head and grabbed his wrist, almost breathless, "Later Steve, I need you now…all of you.”_

_She moved her hand lower, down toward his waist, feeling his stupidly strong abdominal muscles and the treasure trail of dark hair that lead her to what she craved._

_Touching his hips, she scraped against his bare skin with her nails, causing him to jerk.  She finally reached him.  Wrapping her fingers around his length, she felt how hard he was, and she knew she had thought about this…and him too, every day._

_His eyes snapped into focus, trailing from her red lips to her eyes as she started to move her wrist, pumping him slowly and feeling every inch._

_Steve loved to tease.  He loved to torment.  He loved to draw this out as long as he could.  Nothing had changed that except that it wasn’t what they needed right now._

_"Please baby,” she moaned, feeling his wet pre-come leak out as it started to coat her fingers.  That was the only thing further she needed to say as he grabbed her hands, moving them away from him._

_No more teasing._

_She hummed and moved her hips involuntarily towards him as he pinned her wrists above her head for a moment.  He moved his throbbing shaft towards her, wanting to be covered in all the slick warmth she had to give._

_Natasha’s shirt was half up her body as her pert breasts peeked out from where his hands were before.  Red nipples pleading to be tasted.  Her tendrils of hair splayed on the table as he held her hands above her.  Her breasts were rising and falling with each of her breaths.  He stared into her luscious eyes and released his grip on her hands._

_Even though it was dark, and he could only see her through faint streaks of moonlight, Steve took in the picture below him for a moment.  He locked it away into his mental gallery of all his other images of her.  And like those other memories of Natasha, he would lose himself in them with his sketches, drawing her as she is right now, into permanency._

_He bent over to kiss her fervently on the lips and whispered into her mouth, "God, you are so beautiful, Nat.”_

_Steve’s hand moved down to guide himself into her.  Rubbing his tip against her, she tried to move, but he pressed his other hand into her hip, holding her in place.  She squirmed at the teasing sensation of him being so close to her.  Their eyes connected again as he finally pushed into her.  In one penetrating thrust, he was inside her, and he felt like he was home._

_Her hands dug into the table for purchase as she lifted her hips toward him again, breaking through his strength and causing him to sink deeper.  He filled her in every way possible.  He filled her with every inch as she surrounded him.  He filled her mind with every damn memory they ever shared together.  And he filled her heart with everything they were feeling right now…unspoken, but real._

_He braced himself on the sturdy table as he watched her eyes expand when she felt all of him start to move in and out of her._

_She covered his hand with hers on the table and whispered as a tear left her eyes, "I've missed you so much Steve.”_

_They didn't take time to be slow.  They couldn’t.  They succumbed to their impatience as he started pumping faster into her.  Her breathing increased as her throat tightened.  The suctioning sounds and their harsh pants filled the air together._

_Natasha grasped at his sweaty skin around his navel.  She dug her fingers into the meat of his muscles as she squeezed her thighs around his hips.  He lifted one of her legs, biting into the soft flesh of her thighs with his fingers to go even deeper.  To get even closer._

_Steve’s other hand reached down to pinch one of her provoking nipples, and she whined.  His thrusts became harder as he buried himself to the hilt, and he could hear the sound of his cock slapping into her dripping core._

_Their eyes were frozen on each other, and she could tell he was barely holding anything back.  Knowing their rhythm so well, she read his body and wanted it to last longer._

_But she was too far away right now.  She needed to be closer._

_Biting her lip, she propped herself up and reached around his back and under his shirt with one arm.  She gripped his back harder and pulled herself up against him.  Moving with her, and knowing what she needed, Steve sat back on his heels and lifted her up to straddle him._

_The change in positions caused him to slip out of her, leaving them both chasing that high._

_She laced her arms around his neck as he held onto her with his strength, groaning into her ear, “I’ve got you, Nat.”_

_Their skin was coated in sweat as she situated herself on his thighs and wrapped her legs tighter around his waist this time.  She was a spider, and he was her prey.  Knowing this position from their past…God it was a favorite of theirs…he lifted her ass with his hands as she held herself against his neck, never wanting to let go._

_Steve guided her wanting pussy onto him as she lowered herself down as far as she could.  She let out a soft cry as his pulsating cock moved inside her again.  Driving her hips down against his length, she began rocking against him.  His mass and girth inside her soaking vice - they fit seamlessly.  He bit **her** lip this time as his arms moved under her shirt, and around her back to hold her tight.  They were a perfectly fit puzzle in this position, with only their primal sounds and smell of their musk between them.    _

_They found their pace quickly as she writhed against his hips and he thrusted up inside of her._

_His hands spread across her back, holding her close as she threaded her fingers through his hair.  Natasha’s lips found the crook of his neck as she kissed right below where his beard began.  Both of their shirts were high enough, so her supple breasts were rubbing against the firm planes of his chest with each movement.  Her nipples grazed against his sweaty skin with each buck of his hips – it was exquisite._

_They both knew they were close and could feel the cliff of ecstasy coming.  Natasha scratched her nails into the back of his neck as he bit down on her collar bone.  He pulled back on her hair with his other hand until their faces met again.  Gaping at each other, her writhing increased to match his thrusts._

_What began as fucking from uncontrollable want had turned into making love.  With each move…each push and pull…each rock, writhe, and thrust…and with each kiss, their spell over each other intensified.  Their panting now matched his rhythm inside her heat._

_Steve cupped the back of her head, holding her so their lips were close enough to feel each other breathe.  The intimacy between them was palpable._

_They stared into each other's eyes, and he felt her starting to release as her movements became frenzied.  Natasha felt herself tumbling over that edge, deep from within her, but she couldn’t do this on her own.  She needed to feel him shatter inside of her.  She needed them to be one._

_"Come with me, Steve,” she whispered in a breathy moan, barely kissing his lips._

_He felt her inner walls begin to clamp down around him.  Her wave of pleasure started in her spine coiling outward, and extended through her body until it reached her fingers and toes.  She opened her mouth and let out a silent yell as her forehead met his, begging him to join._

_He feverishly thrust into her until a moment later, and then he was over the edge too, releasing everything inside of her, as her spasms swallowed him up.  He felt like he was falling as the rush washed over him, and he careened into ecstasy as she milked him dry._

_He reached his hand down in between their sweaty, half-clothed bodies.  He felt the mixture of their fluids between them as he found her swollen bud at her center.  He swiped his thumb, causing her body to jerk with an aftershock against his chest.  Both fully sated, they held each other tight._

_Still inside of her, not wanting to ever leave, he moved both hands up to her face as she did the same, and he gave the first tender kiss of the night to her._

_"Nat," he sighed against her lips._

_“Steve,” she responded in kind._

_"I love you,” they whispered to each other._

_They pressed their foreheads together again for a moment before they collapsed on the table next to each other.   After all this time, and after everything…They felt it.  They said it.  And they meant every word._

_They had so much to discuss.  The fallout would surely come.  He had so many questions.  She had answers she needed to give him.  But their biggest need, to be with each other, had been fulfilled for the first time in years._

* * *

 

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	10. Timeline

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something Quick and Fun for you all below! :)
> 
> Your continued support and encouragement just mean so much to me as we continue on this AU crazy journey.
> 
> I love hearing from readers, so let me know your thoughts or come follow me on Tumblr @eightieskat if you'd like to chat about anything with the story, Marvel, or anything else. 
> 
> Cheers!~~Kat

Memories & Reality

I do not own any of this or any part of Marvel or the MCU

Chapter 10 – Timeline

* * *

Okay everyone – this is something that was fun for me to whip up really quick.  Hopefully it will help everyone with the timelines.  I have all of this mapped out already, but I was thinking this would be a good way for you as a reader to be able to easily look at the events of this story in a snapshot…so far. 

This by no means, is every detail that has been shared, but it does encompass the big ones, through Chapter 9.  The details below are only things you know about thus far…it doesn’t mean it is all encompassing of what is yet to come.  So, if / when new things are revealed in the future, I’ll update the image quickly below and will copy a new image in the appropriate chapter.

 

* * *

 

 


	11. Awkward Exposure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I hope you enjoy this chapter and image board below.
> 
> Your continued support and encouragement just mean so much to me as we keep trucking along.
> 
> I love hearing from readers, so let me know your thoughts or come follow me on Tumblr @eightieskat if you'd like to chat about anything with the story, Marvel, or anything else. Have a great day :)
> 
> Cheers!~~Kat

Memories & Reality

 I do not own any of this or any part of Marvel or the MCU

Chapter 11 – Awkward Exposure

* * *

 **Present Day**  – FBI HQ

Wanda felt like she could throw up.

She came into the conference room, looking frazzled, and fell into Bucky’s arms as the rest of the agents were taking their seats, “Shhh.  It’s okay.  You did wonderful in there.  You’re okay, Wanda.”

“No, I’m not James.  How is this possible?  How is what Loki said, possible?  How is Natasha alive?”

Thor gave her a bottle of water, with a distressed look on his face.  Everyone had similar expressions.  Not knowing what to believe, they were asking questions that didn’t have any answers right now.  Loki’s words were causing all of their heads to spin - Steve was with Natasha two years ago, and more importantly, Natasha was alive. 

Bucky anxiously watched his wife drink the entire bottle as Fury entered the room.  “I always had a hunch that my stupid brother was looking for Natasha over the years.  I knew he hadn’t moved on.  We all did, but I had  _no_   _idea_  how stupid he actually was…that he actually saw her.”  He turned to Sam to ask, “If what Loki said is true, do you think Steve realizes he’s been breaking the law?” 

“Buck, this is Steve.  He knows the law.  He knew damn well what he was getting into.  He knew he was lying to all of us too,” Sam said.

Wanda added, with her voice strained, “I don’t think his dishonesty is recent when it comes to Natasha.  They’ve always been in their own little world.  We’ve never gotten the whole story with them, even back at Quantico.”

Bucky was gripping the table as Loki’s words began truly setting in.  “What a goddamn idiot,” he muttered.  Wanda could hear the fear in his voice.

Sam put his hand on his friend’s shoulder and said, “Buck, Steve’s love for her has always blinded him.  At the Academy, they were so engrossed in each other, that they lost their damn minds…but it doesn’t mean he was trying to hurt us.”

Bucky’s voice rose with his concern, “That’s what has me worried, Sam…If he’s been willing to lie to us, meet up with her, and is now on his own…to try and do god knows what…then everyone here knows he’s not in the right mindset.”

Tony looked at Bucky with his own troubled expression.  If Bucky was this concerned, they all should be.  Stark was shocked actually.  He never knew Rogers had it in him to lie to his brother.  But when love…real, life changing love is involved, a person would be willing to do almost anything.

Rhodey interrupted, “I’m going to say this just because I think someone needs to…Are we all automatically thinking Loki was telling the truth?  How can we trust him?”

Wanda looked up, rubbing her temple, feeling a headache forming, “I saw his face.  His eyes weren’t lying.  I know that sounds ridiculous…”

Tony interrupted, “I know Wanda.  But we have to cover all the bases here – for everyone’s sake and especially Steve’s.  Because whether Romanoff is alive or not, Steve is 100% in over his head right now, and he’s going to get his stupid ass killed.” 

Fighting with each other was over.  Their bickering could go to hell right now. 

Tony was pissed, but not at anyone in the room.  He was pissed at this entire situation and at feeling the lack of control that was sweeping over him.  Honestly, Steve’s behavior in the last few hours was more in line with something Stark might do, which was all the more reason to be very alarmed. 

Whoever was pulling the strings with this situation, knew Steve was emotionally compromised when it came to Natasha.  Which also meant that the likelihood of this being a gigantic trap was extremely high.  So yeah, Tony was pissed, because he still cared a lot about that stupid, old ass - as much as he hated to admit it to Steve’s face earlier this morning.

Silence filled the room for a minute before Fury spoke, “I don’t think we can rule anything out at this point.  I think we can safely say Rogers  _thinks_  what Loki said is true.  Where are we on locating him?” 

Banner answered, “Steve knew we’d look for him, and here’s a shock, he’s an FBI agent and knows how to lose people if he wants to.  He’s disabled his phone and the GPS device in his SUV, so he’s off the grid.”

“Goddamnit,” Bucky said under his breath.  The heartache was more than noticeable in his voice.

Maria spoke, “Wanda, can you elaborate on how you’re so sure Loki was telling the truth?  I would trust my life with your intuition, but we’re talking about Steve’s life here, so can you try to explain? 

Bucky rested his forehead against his hand as his mind was racing.  Wanda took his other hand in hers as she answered, “I know Loki’s a liar and that’s pretty much what he’s been doing all day.  But I still know him.  I could see it it…I could feel it.”

Squeezing her husband’s hand, she continued, “Loki has always had a soft spot for Natasha.  I know he left us and became a criminal before she betrayed us seven years ago.  And I know with everything from today, I shouldn’t believe him.  But he’d never do anything to dishonor Natasha’s memory.  I keep coming back to that.  So, I don’t know how she’s alive, but I believe him.”

“I believe him too, Wanda,” Sam said.

Everyone wanted it to be true.  They all wanted Natasha to somehow be alive.  But, deep down every agent in that conference room was also scared of what it all meant if she was.   

Thor added, “What about Steve, Wanda?  Do you really think he was in contact with Natasha before we thought she died?  I mean, if he was, what was he thinking?  We could have helped him.”

Tony answered for her, “I know you’re going to think I’m just being an asshole here, but I think we need to remember when it comes to Natasha, Steve has never been rational or objective, from day one.  Yeah, I was an ass to Romanoff at Quantico at times, but it was because she was a damn good trainee, and I was competitive.  And she made a great FBI agent.  But we all know she was much more than any of that now, don’t we?”

He let his words sink in for a few seconds before he continued, “The people that Natasha grew up with are the real villains in the world.  Believe me, I wish Natasha’s past wasn’t real.  I wish she didn’t betray us.  I wish Steve’s head and heart weren’t put through a meat grinder ever since then.  But that’s not the case.  I mean, think back and remember the first time we actually caught her in a lie with that Navy tattoo at Quantico?  That was only the tip of the iceberg.”   

* * *

**_12 Years Ago –_ **

_“Come on Romanoff, is that the best you’ve got for me?”_

_Rogers said through heavy breathing.  He took two steps back on the mat from her.  Sweat dripped down their reddened faces as Steve placed his hands in front of his._

_Natasha bunched up the sleeves of her sweatshirt, “I haven’t even started to show you my moves, Rogers.”  She swiped at his chest with her hand as her leg moved behind his knee._

_The next thing he knew, he was on his back, with her straddling his hips while pinning his arms to his side.  Leaning over him, Natasha watched a couple of drops of moisture fall from her onto his neck._

_Steve swallowed as she watched his sculpted chest rise and fall underneath her.  Licking her lips, she found his eyes again, “You know Rogers, I know you want us to have this magical night with rose petals and birds chirping, but I got to tell you, I could just take you right now.  I’m reaching my limit.”  She swiveled her hips jokingly, right as she finished talking._

_Steve didn’t feel like joking around right now though.  Especially with the look she was giving him.  He knew the look all too well because over the last six weeks, he had that same exact one…repeatedly.  It was the look an alcoholic gives a glass of whiskey before they fall off the wagon – with utter desire.  The look that said exactly what she was thinking, ‘Fuck it, let’s Fuck.’_

_And since Natasha was currently distracted, trying to make him squirm, he took advantage and slipped out of her grasp.  He used his strength to flip her on her back, and now she was pinned between his hips as he held her arms above her head._

_Her expression changed from surprise to annoyance as Steve gave her a devilish grin, “Hey Romanoff, you’re the one who wanted us to start working on hand-to-hand combat together last month.  Anything is fair, right?”_

_Her annoyance was only a front because god, she loved this._

_Natasha loved anytime when they were kissing, or cuddling, or sleeping, or especially when they were training.  She loved it because at times like these, Steve’s enormous strength and size surrounded her, making her almost feel tiny.  But at the same time, she always felt protected and calm.  It was like he was all she could see in the world, and that’s all that mattered._

_Natasha wanted him more and more each day if it was possible, but now he had to add a little competitive flair into the mix.  And he wanted to flirt and show off how much of a little shit he could be?  Well, two could play at this game, “Sure Steve, anything is fair.”_

_She barely moved her thigh in between his, grazing it against the center of his shorts.  She knew what she was doing. **He**  knew what she was doing – playing dirty.  And she could actually hear him swallow. _

_His legs squeezed tighter around her, so she couldn’t move anymore._

_It was a losing battle trying to flirt more than Natasha.  So, instead he fell into the old habit of trying to be the rational one.  Steve said, “Come on Natasha, I mean it.  I want this to be special, not some romp on a sweaty mat.  We just have to get through this test today, and then we’ll have all weekend to each other.”_

_Natasha let out a frustrated sound, “Fine. You got it, Cap.”_

_Okay, now Steve could tell she was actually annoyed with her snarky tone and quip.  Everyone knew he was a Captain in the Army, and occasionally used it as he displayed his leadership skills, but right now, Natasha was only trying to provoke him._

_Steve groaned and stood up._

_How is he the bad guy here?  All he’s trying to do is plan a special weekend for his girl.  Since when did the act of trying to make sex between two people special, come under such intense scrutiny?_

_Two people who deeply cared about one another by the way._

_But now his own resolve waivered.  He looked at her sprawled out on the floor, in her skimpy black shorts and sweatshirt.  With lines of muscles on her legs defined by sweat, and strands of hair matted to the side of her forehead.  And now she was staring up at him, grinning slyly, and slowly rubbing her thighs together._

_His exact thought at the moment was loud and clear, ‘Fuck it, let’s fuck,’ as if he could read her mind from before._

_Maybe her impatience was wearing him down, but they were at the finish line.  They literally had to get through the day.  So, he wasn’t going to give in, no matter how much he wanted to listen the voice inside his head._

_Steve grinned right back at her as he bent over and pushed down on her knee closest to him, stopping her from moving those goddamn thighs.  She bit her lip, looking up at him.  He leaned into the pressure a little more, making her feel more of his weight.  He kept her guessing for just a second, but then he reached for her hand._

_She grabbed it as he pulled her up in one swift move.  She let out a little yelp as he leaned over, “Come on Nat.  Don’t be annoyed.  And don’t think I’m not feeling tormented right now.  Because I am, but you’re worth the wait.”_

_Natasha rolled her eyes, but couldn’t hide her smile.  He gave her a quick pat on her ass and said, “That’s my girl,” before pulling her into a hug, and following it up with a kiss to her sweaty forehead._

_Flirtation may have been a losing battle with her, but his game was strong.  She couldn’t deny that.  Ugh, how could she be annoyed at this?  The answer was she couldn’t.  Not with his sincerity, and that smile.  It was that simple as she felt her frustration go away._

_That didn’t stop her from trying again to get some detail from him, about the weekend he planned, “Come on Steve.  One little hint.  Please?”_

_He chuckled, “You never stop, do you?  Natasha, it’s a surprise.  That means I’m not going to tell you.”_

_Natasha smiled at him but saw a flicker of hesitation in his eyes._

_“What is it, Steve?” Natasha asked.  The itch in his brain was back.  This had been bothering him for a few weeks, so he was just going to try again with her.  Steve looked at her and held her hand, “You trust me, right?”_

_Natasha laughed, “Steve that is a ridiculous question, you know that I trust you more than I’ve ever trusted anyone in my life.  I mean, you and Clint, of course.”_

_At the mention of his name, Steve decided to go for it, “It’s funny you should mention his name, Nat.  I haven’t pushed you for any more information over the last month and a half.”_

_She arched an eyebrow at him, “But?”_

_Steve looked nervous as he continued, “But…I really want to meet Clint, and I think this weekend would be a perfect time to do it.”  Natasha’s forehead creased as she took a step back, “Steve, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”_

_Damn._

_Steve wiped his forehead with his towel and threw her one too, “Come on Nat.  You said yourself that you missed him, and the last time you saw him was six weeks ago.  I promise, no one will know, and it doesn’t have to be anything big.  You’ve met my brother.  I can’t wait for you to meet my mom.  That means a lot to me, and so does this.  I just…I just want to meet the person that’s so important to you.  What’s important to you is important to me.”_

_Natasha stared at him with disbelief.  How was she actually considering this?_

_Steven Grant Rogers could talk Moses off the mountain if he was determined enough._

_Natasha looked at him and wondered if his patience and understanding with her had no end.  Her heart warmed when she listened to him talk about Clint.  He had planned this secretive weekend, and he was willing to give up some of it.  All because he really wanted to meet the one person that was as important to her as Steve was._

_She pushed the doubt and negative feelings in her stomach away and gave into the hope she felt in her heart.  Clint loved her.  Steve lo…she pushed the end of that thought away as well.  Steve walked right into her heart, so maybe he can wriggle into Clint’s graces._

_“Okay, I’ll text him this morning and see if he can swing by somewhere tonight.  If he says yes, I’ll text him after we get there, since you won’t tell me anything.”_

_Steve picked her up and swung her around in a hug as she laughed.  Neither one of them cared that they were completely covered in sweat._

_Steve put her down immediately though when he heard their friends enter the training area._

* * *

_Over the last few weeks, competitiveness among the group rose.  So, their friends decided to start putting in extra hours as well._

_Normally, Steve and Natasha usually avoided any overlap by training at 5:00 am.  Everyone else had been showing up around 6:00 am, but today, Steve and Natasha’s longer session had them running right into their friends._

_Bucky spoke first, “I swear Steve, we could have been here at 3:00 am this morning, and the two of you still would have beaten us.  Romanoff, doesn’t my brother’s natural morning state just…annoy you?”  Natasha grinned.  She really liked how Bucky had made her feel so included and welcomed over the last couple of weeks, making her feel like everyone else._

_Her or Steve didn’t need to answer though.  Wanda did it for them, “James, maybe if you would have a little more of that morning motivation, you wouldn’t need to poke fun at your brother…maybe you’d actually be able to beat him.”_

_Steve almost spit out his water because he started laughing so hard.  He grabbed his chest and couldn’t stop for a few seconds as he watched Bucky blush from Wanda’s teasing.  Steve said, “Wanda…you have no idea how wrong the words, morning and motivation, are when it comes to Buck…they just don’t fit.  Never have, never will.”_

_Bucky rolled his eyes as he mumbled, “You’re lucky I have to love you, Steve…otherwise I might have to embarrass you in front of Romanoff.”_

_Steve walked over to his brother and placed his hand on his shoulder, “Buck, don’t worry.  I’ll stop.  Besides, I don’t think I need to say anything further…Wanda keeps you in your place just fine.”  He smacked that same hand against his shoulder, and Bucky couldn’t help but grin._

_Sam interjected, “Look at it this way, Buck.  I’m taking this as a good sign that we caught them.  It must mean we’re all improving, and we’ll get through the trust exercise today with flying colors.  And then the weekend is ours.”_

_Steve and Natasha were about to leave as they waved to everyone, but Stark stopped them, “Hey Romanoff, care to help a man out?  Why don’t you see if my improvements in combat have come close to your level?”_

_Everyone stopped._

_No one else had really fought Natasha on the mat except Steve.  Bucky and Maria had sparred with her in the boxing ring a few times, and they got her to teach them a few takedown moves on the open mat.  But they didn’t actually go head-to-head.  Ever since she squared off with Melinda May, they all steered away from the idea of it._

_Rhodey groaned.  Why…why does he have to provoke?_

_Tony actually really liked Natasha more and more.  They weren’t ‘close’ by any means, but they had fallen into a more joking and comfortable relationship.  It was nice, but sometimes, Tony couldn’t help himself.  He really did want to see if he’d improved since the first week, but he was also scratching at an itch that he didn’t even know he had._

_Steve sighed and said protectively, “Come on Tony, if you want to test your skills, why don’t you and I go at it?”  Stark laughed, “Oh come on Rogers.  You know Natasha doesn’t need anyone standing up for her.  I really mean it as a compliment.”_

_Steve gave him a disbelieving look, “Tony, it’s early.  We’ve already been here for over an hour, and we have the same test that you do today, even though we have no idea what that is yet.  And your whole compliment thing – yeah, I’m not buying what you’re selling.”_

_Tony grinned, “Rogers, no offense, but you’re burly.  You’re simply not my type.  Besides, since the two of you are at the top of every physical skillset anyway, I don’t think it matters if we add another 15 minutes to your routine, does it?  Come on Red, I want to see if I’ve gotten better…what do you say?”_

_The rest of their friends had separated themselves, giving the three people caught in this…whatever it was…some space._

_Natasha had her hands on her hips, watching Steve and Tony go back and forth.  She wasn’t about to let the pissing match get out of hand – no matter who started it.  She really didn’t take offense to Stark’s statement.  So, she looked at it two ways.  If he was being genuine, she really didn’t mind sparring with him.  And if he was only trying to be a shithead because he woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, then she’d knock him on his ass anyway._

_She removed her sweatshirt, leaving her in a black t-shirt and her shorts as she spoke up, “It’s a good thing you’re going to have two days off, Stark.  You’re going to need them to recover.”_

_She put her hand gently on Steve’s shoulder and looked at him, telling him silently that this was okay._

_The tension lifted a little as Steve went over to stand by Bucky.  He was more than confident in her.  His disgruntled feelings had nothing to do with that. Okay, maybe a small part of him couldn’t help trying to come to her rescue.  She was so damn independent, that he would soak up any chance he could.  But just because he was sure Tony didn’t mean any harm, it didn’t mean he had to like it._

_Everyone else circled around and started making jokes about Stark getting his ass kicked.  Natasha and Tony shook hands, nodded at each other, and began slowly moving around the mat, trying to size each other up._

_Stark’s impatience caused him to strike first.  He advanced toward her in a swift motion, swinging one arm as a distraction, as his other arm came into contact with her neck, with a stiff, open-handed jab.  She was caught off guard just for a second, and he took advantage, landing his fist in a solid blow to her right shoulder, causing her to curse, “Shit.”_

_Steve felt a twinge of anger flare up, but Natasha took two steps back, rolled her shoulder and smirked._

_Natasha charged at Stark, but as he moved away, she dropped to the ground, tumbling into a somersault and landing behind him as she stood up.  He turned around, and she didn’t waste any time.  She moved to hit him with an upper-cut, but he grabbed her fist._

_Clenching her jaw, Natasha latched onto her fist with her other hand.  She pulled Tony toward her, and stunned him with a pounding kick into his side.  Grunting from the impact of her leg, Tony bent over as she escaped from his grasp._

_Natasha saw a glint of anger in his eyes.  All of a sudden, the competitiveness between the two had elevated to another level._

_Stark moved faster.  He had improved with his reflexes and moves, but she was still leaner, quicker, and more experienced.  Natasha sidestepped away from his first punch, and dodged his second.  But as she ducked away from his third, he struck her face with a pummeling, roundhouse kick._

_It was like Natasha was in a slow motion video as her face jiggled and her neck contorted from impact.  Steve and the others saw spit coming from her mouth as she leaned over for a second to catch her breath._

_“Goddamn, son of a bitch,” Steve muttered as Bucky grabbed his arm, “Steve.  She is a big girl, and she’s going to be that much more pissed off, if you try to intervene.”_

_Natasha rubbed at the already forming redness on her cheek, as Stark winced from the pain in his side and scoffed, “Nothing personal Romanoff, just trying to show you I’ve improved here.”  Natasha took a few steps back and glared at him.  He had left a mark from the kick, and she could feel it as she popped her neck and moved her jaw._

_She was more than irritated as she felt the adrenaline coursing through her now.  She was done playing around and ran toward him.  Expecting a full assault and another roll, Stark moved to his right and hunched into a defense stance._

_But, Natasha surprised him by darting to his left.  She jumped and pushed off of his bent knee with her foot and climbed up his body like a monkey…like a spider.  It all happened faster than his brain could compute.  One second she was running, and the next she was on his shoulders, wrapping her thighs around his neck._

_Audible gasps were escaping Tony as his airway tightened in between her muscular legs.  She whispered to him, “Give up Stark.”  He tried to throw her off of him, digging into her legs, but it was no use.  His lack of oxygen caused him to thrash around in uncoordinated motions._

_She was relentless with the force of her hold and used his weakened state against him.  As he was sucking in a labored breath, his body started to topple.  He was going to fall backward._

_Using gravity as an advantage as he was falling, she twisted her body around his neck, so now his face was planted straight into her navel.  It would have been awkward if adrenaline, aggression, and the general tension of their competitiveness didn’t fill the air._

_She un-clenched her legs and pushed off of him right before his back hit the ground with a resounding thud.  Natasha landed softly on her feet._

_It was gratuitous, but Natasha didn’t care.  Some people might say she was showing off at this point, but she again, didn’t care.  She was tired and agitated, and this little scuffle was going to end now.  Tony was heaving for air to fully enter his system, and Natasha went in for the final blow._

_Stark was sitting up, but she moved fast as she eliminated the distance between them.  She threw her hands to the mat, and thrusted her body off the ground into a round off flip.  As her legs came back down, she landed right behind him in a crouched position and slammed her fist into his back._

_He was knocked over to his side as he propped himself up with his elbow, groaning from the hit and breathing hard._

_The group didn’t know what they just watched.  Her fight with May was focused and intense.  The sparring sessions they had caught between her and Steve were equally impressive.  But the way Natasha used her instincts, had perfect timing, and had awareness of the space around her, was more than remarkable.  It was like she was a Ninja come to life before their eyes._

_Steve wasn’t amused though.  He was annoyed that Stark challenged her, and he was furious he left a mark on her face._

_Stark put his hands up as he stood up, breathing normally again and showing surrender.  Natasha wiped her hands and said, “Nothing personal, Tony.”  None of the hits Natasha landed on Tony were as hard as his kick to her face.  The damage she had done was more to his ego than anything else._

_‘What happens here, stays here,’ she thought.  She had been upset too, and let her competitive nature get too wrapped up in the last fifteen minutes.  But it was over.  The fight was fair.  Time to move on with the rest of their day (It was a lot easier to do this when you were in the winning position)._

_The truth has a funny way of seeping into life.  And when someone like Natasha tries to keep the truth shrouded in secrecy and deflection, it can push back and emerge in the most unsuspecting of ways._

_She was ready to walk off the mat, but Tony, like so many times in his life, just couldn’t let it go.  He **wasn’t**  in the winning position, and he was embarrassed.  With her back turned, he jumped up and punched her with a cheap shot to the back.  It caught her off guard, and she lost her balance. _

_Stark immediately regretted his erratic behavior and muttered, “Fuck,” as she was about to fall._

_Tony moved forward to try and stop her from falling, but he missed her shoulder and grabbed the collar of her t-shirt instead.  A ripping sound cut through the silence in the room.  Natasha’s t-shirt split open from the force of her falling to her knees._

_“You’re a Goddamn prick, Tony,” Steve said as he ran across the mat to Natasha.  Bucky yelled, “What the hell, asshole,” as everyone else started to defend Romanoff._

_Tony felt awful.  He really did.  And he was about to apologize.  He **really** was.  But Natasha’s right shoulder caught his eye below him.  And just like that, the itch he’s never been able to truly ignore when it came to her was back, and again…just couldn’t stop himself. _

_Because below him, Natasha’s Navy tattoo was exposed, causing just a little of the truth to emerge._

_Maybe to most people, they wouldn’t have thought anything of it.  But Tony noticed.  His Father was a weapons manufacturer for Christ’s sake.  He knew the world of special forces and mercenaries, and the type of ammo and equipment they used.  And he knew this particular tattoo was one from a special forces group within the Navy.  And because of Tony’s knowledge, he also knew this group had always been manned with seasoned and extremely gifted men between the ages of 25 and 35.  Not a petite redhead who was only 22._

_All of the questions Stark initially challenged her with at the beginning of their training, now suddenly felt vindicated as the hair stood up on the back of his neck.  That itch was getting scratched alright._

_“What the hell?” Stark exclaimed toward Natasha._

_She was on her knees now with the help of Steve as everyone surrounded them, with the tattoo in full view.  Everyone had a puzzled look on their faces, but when Rhodey, Sam, and Bucky all caught site of the image of the anchor and compass with intricate lines and shading, they knew what Stark was thinking.  Because being military men, they were all thinking it too._

_Something wasn’t adding up about Natasha Romanoff._

_Steve stood up and made the instant connection of what was going on.  He was on the opposite side of everyone else, quite fitting in the moment, and he looked down at her._

_Natasha knew instantly, from the way the air shifted around them, what was going on.  It wasn’t like she had been caught with a murder weapon.  But she had been caught with a large question mark on her back, that only led to more and more and **more** questions._

_“Okay Romanoff, I know I’m the dickhead here who challenged poor little you to a fight.  But no…not poor you.  How about you start telling us how in the world, you…a female who doesn’t even weigh 120 pounds soaking wet, and who joined the Navy at 18, was a member of an elite special forces team?” Stark accused._

_Steve saw color drain from her face and his stomach was in knots for her._

_Maybe it was because for the first time in weeks, someone had poked a hole in the little cocoon her and Steve were living in…Or maybe it was because the first taste of friendship and normalcy in her life was in jeopardy as they all stood around her, making her feel like an animal in a zoo exhibit.  Or maybe it was because in some ways she was still that scared little girl in her dreams._

**_Maybe_  ** _it was all of these reasons and more that caused her to panic._

_Whatever the reason, she couldn’t handle this right now.  She needed to get air – to get away – to be free._

_She bolted out of the training area, and Steve ran after her, leaving the other individuals stunned._

* * *

_“Natasha, wait up,” Steve yelled as he caught up to her._

_She ran to her spot on the hill between the two dorms.  She put her sweatshirt back on and knelt down as she stared at the grass.  Steve could tell she was embarrassed and angry by what just happened.  He just didn’t understand what else was going through her head that caused her to run._

_She looked at him as he knelt down in front of her.  “Natasha, it’s okay.  You can tell them about being a standout in the Navy and joining a specialized team.”_

_“No Steve, I can’t,” she knew he didn’t understand, “Steve, you have to think here.  Everything you know about me.  Everything I’ve shared...you are literally the only person I’ve ever done that with.  Besides my brother, handlers, and everyone who pulls their strings, you are the only other person who knows any of my past.”_

_Steve tilted her chin up towards him, “Natasha, look at me.  I don’t know what is going through your head right now, but you need to talk to me, so I can help.  So what, they saw a tattoo…Is it that far of a stretch for them to realize you were specialized military at such a young age?”_

_“It’s not just that, Steve.  But my handlers didn’t want me in the Navy.  And they sure as hell didn’t want me making a name for myself there.  You stand out, you draw attention.  You draw attention, people ask questions.  People ask questions, people get hurt.  It’s that simple.  I don’t want any of them getting caught up in this.  God, it’s bad enough I’ve brought you into my lies.”_

_“Natasha, I know you’re scared.  I am too.  I am in over my head with most of what you’ve told me, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.  So listen to me…the way you have smiled and felt more free over the last month, since opening up…even just a little to our friends, that’s what connection is.  That’s what trust is.  That’s what making friends and living a life is.”_

_He held her hands and continued, “So, you have to let people in.  Not with everything, I understand that.  You bought a little time a few weeks back.  But Nat…these are military men, former cops, tech people, and now all FBI trainees.  They’re people born to question.  So, if you don’t tell them something more…especially now…you’ll lose them.”_

_It was too much.  It was her handlers controlling her.  It was her parents throwing her away.  It was her entire life smothered in lies and deceit.  It was feeling like she was losing something that she only started gaining.  “Please don’t push me on this today, Steve.  I just can’t.  Maybe I can figure out something over the weekend and talk to them after we’re back next week.”_

_Steve didn’t agree, but he knew better than to push her right now.  She was lost in her head and she was going to have to help herself, as much as he was trying to, in order to pull herself out._

_‘Why the hell did Stark have to challenge her today?’ Steve thought to himself.  That was his denial talking though.  If it wasn’t the tattoo, it would have been someone catching her in a half truth or full-blown lie eventually.  The inevitable had happened._

* * *

_An hour and a half later, Fury stood on the stage in the auditorium as the entire class entered the room.  “Everyone be seated.  We’ll start in a couple of minutes.”  Steve and Natasha sat a few rows from the back, distancing themselves from the group._

_Maria, Loki, and Wanda had all stopped by Natasha’s room and tried talking to her before the day started, but she just said, “Drop it,” and left them in the hallway as she walked off._

_Sam and Bucky tried the same thing with Steve in their room, only with a little more persistence._

_“Look, Steve.  We all like, Romanoff.  We want to give her the benefit of the doubt, but why the hell didn’t she just answer Stark’s question?  Why did she run off?” Sam started._

_Steve gave him a pleading look to stop, but Bucky pushed forward, “Steve, Stark was an absolute asshole, and that cheap shot he gave her was stupid and had us all wanting to punch him…But, I have to say, he wasn’t wrong with his question.  Do you know what’s going on with Natasha?”_

_This is what he had worried about since Natasha had shared a lot of the details about her life with him.  He wasn’t cut out for the lies, but he couldn’t betray her trust in him.  He cared about her too much.  It was more than that.  It was much deeper than caring for her, but beyond that, he understood the concerns and heavy warnings with people from her past.  He wasn’t going to risk his friends and family’s possible safety.  It was bad enough he was constantly worrying about Natasha’s._

_Bucky was communicating a lot more than his actual words with how he was looking at Steve.  A look that said, ‘Don’t even think about fucking lying to me for a girl you’ve known for 10 weeks.’  A look that started to show genuine concern, saying, ‘I’m starting to worry about you.’_

_Steve read it all clearly on Bucky’s face.  They could always do that.  Which is why Steve couldn’t hide his own concern from him.  So, he didn’t lie, but he didn’t feel good at all as he said, “I know you guys mean well here.  I really do.  But please stop…Bucky, it’s Natasha’s information to share, so stop asking.”_

_So here Steve and Natasha sat, away from everyone, as he reached for her hand, trying to assure her everything would be okay._

_Fury’s voice started again, “Okay everyone, we’re going to get started.  I know you’re looking forward to a weekend break, but first things first.  Trust.  Beyond anything else, trust is at the core of the FBI.  Trust is given to our agency by the people of this country.  We risk our lives every day in this job because we trust in the ideals of this country.  We trust that this country is worth fighting for.  To reflect the trust of the people, the trust in our agency, and the trust in our country, we have to trust each other first.  Without that, nothing works.  You must trust yourself out in the field, you must trust your partners you work with, and you **must**  trust your team.” _

_A day, vital to the development of future FBI agents, was centered around trust.  And now the team of friends, were thinking about all of their questions centered around trust, and around Natasha._

_The irony of this morning’s twist of events was almost poetically cruel._

* * *

_Everyone left the auditorium and moved to the training hall._

_It had been sectioned off into different stations.  The trainees were split into pairs.  To their surprise, they didn’t get to pick their partners, the instructors did._

_So, Steve and Natasha couldn’t rely on the cocoon of each other this morning.  She was paired with Loki.  Steve was with Wanda, Bucky with Tony, Sam with Thor, and Rhodey with Hill.  Bruce was paired with another person from a different group that he had gotten to know during some labs._

_The morning was simple.  Three sections.  A written assessment, a strength and reflex assessment, and an assessment called, ‘Mine Field,’ was last.  The team split off - Steve, Natasha, Loki, and Wanda were in the same grouping together with the writing assessment first._

_Instructor Coulson was overseeing this exercise and had communication devices and cameras set up in each room, as he supervised from afar.  The pairs were instructed to enter into the separate rooms from each other.  “Well this should be an interesting morning, Romanoff,” Loki said as they were sitting down._

_Wanda was the first one to speak between her and Rogers, “Steve, I know this is hard right now, but you need to focus on your own skin today.  They didn’t let us pair off with who we usually do for a reason.  They want you to show your strengths in any situation.”_

_He smiled at her attempt to be positive as they sat down.  They stopped talking immediately though as Coulson’s voice came over the intercom, “Trainees, read the paper in front of you carefully and follow directions.  No questions.  No talking.  Time starts now.”_

_The paper stated, ‘Trust, But Verify.’  The directions that followed were very simple._

  * _In a short essay of less than 500 words, please write why you want to be an FBI Agent, and what trust means to you._
  * _On the back of the paper, summarize in less than 100 words, the strengths and weaknesses of trainee in the room with you, and give your assessment on their ability to be an FBI agent. This is for instructor’s review.  Your partner will not see this._



_The individuals in each room began writing immediately until Coulson told them to stop 30 minutes later.  They were instructed to share their answers to the first part with each other.  Easy enough.  Steve and Wanda, then Loki and Natasha each gave their answers to each other, somewhat awkwardly.  But they soon realized this wasn’t the real point of the exercise._

_“Now, share the answers you’ve written for the second part,” Coulson said._

_Silence and nervous stares stopped anyone on his monitors from talking, so he spoke in a more commanding tone, “If you can’t handle receiving or giving a little constructive criticism to your teammates at Quantico, what good will you be at helping a fellow agent in the field when your life could be on the line?”_

_The awkwardness ticked up a notch._

_Wanda exhaled nervously and started with Steve in their room, “Rogers shows signs of being a strong Field Agent.  With his military background, his natural leadership ability, and his gifted skillset, he ensures the safety of his team and others, before his own – as a commanding officer and a lead agent in the FBI should...However, Rogers let’s personal feelings cloud his judgement at times, and this is a concern to watch out for in the future.  He is immensely loyal to his friends, family, and loved ones – to those he trusts – but to a fault, where emotion can be a weakness, and accountability can waiver.”_

_She smiled timidly at Steve.  He couldn’t blame her for what she said.  A look of relief came over her when she saw in his eyes that he wasn’t upset with her before he started speaking._

_“Maximoff will be an essential part of an FBI unit.  I am confident in that.  Her skillset for technical oversight in operational planning is exceptional.  She comes off as timid, which could be mistaken as being insecure, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.  She has an emotional intelligence that allows her to see people’s strengths and weaknesses objectively, while still communicating in an effective, personable manner.  It is a skill that cannot be taught in the classroom.  Maximoff needs to apply that confidence in her ‘field and weapons training,’ where she needs improvement.”_

_To the point, but honest and real._

_Neither Steve or Wanda could disagree with any of the words they wrote about each other.  Steve knew what Wanda was saying with her comments, about his emotions and feelings being something to watch out for.  How could he be mad when he had the same concerns himself?_

_Coulson scanned over all the other rooms and all of the trainees had spoken, except Loki and Natasha._

_Loki and Natasha seemed to be having a staring contest, and neither wanted to blink.  Maybe it was their natural stubbornness.  Regardless, Loki sat back in his chair grinning, and motioned his hands towards her to go first._

_Natasha rolled her eyes but relented, “Strong technical abilities.  Excellent programming skills.  Naturally intelligent.  Ability to morph into any conversation or situation.  Could have future in FBI with a team’s lab.  Confident all the time.  Arrogant sometimes, causing blind spots with own weaknesses.  Communication skills high.  Ability to talk too much, also high.  Uses humor as a deflection tool.  Possibility of becoming bored with the FBI, strong.”_

_Succinct.  Blunt.  Objective, bordering on harsh._

_Most people would be pissed, but Loki was impressed with her tenacity.  He also questioned where a 22-year old learned to summarize a person with words like a Doctor with a scalpel.  He smirked and spoke with a mocking tone, “Well I’m clearly not bored with you, Romanoff…Arrogant?”_

_“Loki, you’re only making her points for her by joking around.  Please just read your statement and be done,” Coulson said through the speaker._

_He leaned forward and looked like he had a juicy secret to tell with the way he grinned at her._

_“Romanoff is young, beautiful, and wickedly smart.  She is also exceptionally gifted with weapons, tactical and combat moves, and all other field operational skills.  I do not use those adjectives as hyperbole.  She knows how to use her strengths as advantages.  She does not shy away from manipulation or secrecy, both when the situation calls for it and when it doesn’t.  Romanoff doesn’t outwardly lie, but lives in half-truths most of the time.  She does not like to be the focus of attention or questions, and she does not trust team members, with the exception of Rogers.”_

_‘Fuck.’  It was the only word going through Natasha’s head at the moment.  She wasn’t pissed.  She had a respect for Loki.  He pinpointed her strengths and weaknesses without knowing anything specific about her.  His summary also explained the reason she was so worried about questions being asked…more people cannot find out about the details behind her half-truths and secrecy._

_“Next station,” Coulson commanded as Loki and Natasha stood up.  “I guess it’s fair to say we’re not pulling any punches today?”  Natasha joked.  Loki laughed, “You may not trust me or anyone else besides your Golden Boy, Romanoff…but I think we’re going to have some fun today.”_

_“You’re not mad about me not answering Stark’s questions this morning?”  Natasha asked._

_Loki laughed even harder, “It’s not my style to be upset at something so puny.  I can’t say the same for everyone else.  Now, am I curious as hell and suspicious?  Oh, yes.  But that just makes me like you even more, Romanoff.”_

_In an unsuspecting twist that Natasha couldn’t have predicted, she actually felt better than she had all morning.  Loki was just having fun, like a child at recess.  He really didn’t care about anything she wasn’t willing to share with him, and right now, she couldn’t be more grateful._

_Steve saw Bucky, Tony, Sam, and Thor going into Coulson’s exercise as he and Wanda reached their next station.  The sight of Bucky and Tony being together was comical, and Steve wished he could hear what they had to say about each other, but his attention was pulled to Loki and Natasha as he caught up to them._

_“You doing okay?”  Steve asked, still very concerned about her, but to his surprise, she sounded better than when they last spoke, “Yeah, Steve.  I’m feeling okay right now…I just want today to be over.”_

_Wanda watched the two of them.  She questioned why Natasha ran this morning, but when she saw the care between Steve and her, any sense of dread or suspicion went out the window.  As far as she was concerned, they all should be trusting each other on the merits they are displaying at Quantico, not based on sins or successes of their past.  She made a decision at that moment as she leaned over and put her hand on Natasha’s forearm and smiled._

_She didn’t say anything.  She didn’t need to, for Natasha to get the point.  Wanda was letting her know that she was here for her.  The moment ended right as it started though._

_There were several exercises in this station, that each focused on reflexes, and forcing your body to trust your partner.   Melinda May explained the different stations to the group._

_There was target practice, where your partner assembled your weapon that you were shooting.  Steve had difficulty with Wanda’s assembly, and Natasha’s gun jammed up when Loki assembled hers, but neither one of them got frustrated.  They worked with their partners, showed them their mistakes, and both groups did better the second time around._

_Then, there was a rock climbing exercise where the partners were tethered together without being connected to an attached cable.  Steve and Wanda had no problems, although Steve went a lot slower than usual, while Natasha had to hold Loki up during one slip of his foot, “I guess I should have added ‘Surprisingly Strong’ to your list of strengths back in Coulson’s session,” Loki said as he thanked her._

_Next up was a knife exercise where they used butter knives to move between each other’s fingers against a table.  Wanda looked frightened at the exercise, as Instructor May scolded her, “Rumor has it, back in the Hoover days, trainees used real blades instead of butter knives.  The worst damage these flimsy things have caused in the last 30 years is some bruised tendons and shallow cuts.  Sac up, Maximoff.”_

_She did and hit Steve’s thumb with the knife once.  He couldn’t hold back a groan, but he was still patient with her.  They both laughed though, when they looked over at Loki, who looked utterly horrified as Natasha, with a huge smile on her face, moved rapidly with the knife in between his fingers.  He didn’t move though, and he made it out without a scratch – because he had trust in her ability._

_May excused their group when they were done, but held the four of them back, “Loki, Wanda.  You two clearly need to put more time in on your physical training, but overall well done.  Rogers, Romanoff – great job.  The two of you have a lot of potential in your futures with the FBI.”_

_Natasha was wide-eyed at the compliment, “Romanoff, just remember, I kicked your ass.  Don’t let my words go to your head.”_

_Steve grinned and escorted them onto the next and final station._

_It was called ‘Mine Field,’ and it focused on listening and communicating with your partner through ‘blind trust.’_

_Each pair took turns.  They had to get through the fake mine field in front of them while one partner was blind folded and the other told them where to move through ear pieces.  The mines, or ‘Bouncing Bettys,’ as Steve remembered from his army days, were switches in the floor.  When hit, the trainee would receive an electric jolt through their body like a cattle prod._

_There were two obstacle courses.  One for each member of the team, so neither person could see their course they’d blindly be navigating beforehand.  To pass, the trainees had to get through the field without hitting a single mine.  If they did hit one, they had to start over._

_Instructor Koenig was in charge of this session as he was directing the trainees waiting to go.  Because of the length and repeated attempts of the exercise, a bottleneck of trainees was forming and Steve, Wanda, Loki, and Natasha could see their other friends ahead of them._

_Bucky looked back and nodded to Steve, and then smiled at Wanda as Loki said, “My god Dear, you have that poor boy wrapped around your little finger, and you haven’t even been on one date with him yet.” He turned to Steve and finished, “I don’t know what it is about you and your brother with FBI trainees, but I am beginning to think there must be something in the water in Brooklyn.”_

_Steve winked at Natasha, and she smiled for the first time since the whole tattoo fiasco earlier that morning.  The whole situation was put on the back burner with Wanda and Loki.  She was sure she wouldn’t have gotten that reprieve from Tony or even Bucky._

_They watched as many of their classmates faltered several times in the exercise.  They shouldn’t have laughed, but it really was funny seeing people they knew get hit with the electric shocks.  When the electronic jolts coursed through their bodies, it caused the trainees to jerk and jump around like they were acting out a physical comedy sketch.  Even if it was at the expense of each other, it felt good to have a little comic relief._

_Rhodey, Maria, Banner, Sam, and Thor passed the exercise without any missteps.  Stark and Bucky both hit the mines once and passed on their second time.  Natasha didn’t hit any of them, and Loki hit three, but he eventually passed.  Loki had a stunned expression when he was done, “Well that’s the most action I’ve gotten since being here.”_

_Wanda and Steve were last out their group.  They had really enjoyed working together today and a bond had formed, causing Wanda to open up to Steve right now as they waited their turn, “Steve, I don’t know how to say this, so I’m just going to.  Maybe I’m making a mistake going on a date with Bucky this weekend.  You and Natasha clearly have something special, but I don’t know if I want to take a chance and complicate my time here.”_

_Steve looked at her and smiled, “Wanda, I know Bucky can come off as a flirt, but he wouldn’t have been so persistent with you if he didn’t like you.  You’ll never find a better man in life.  Today’s about trust, right?  Well you should know, I have trusted him with my life more times than I can count, and I wouldn’t be here today without him.  I don’t want to tell you what to do…but if a little hesitation is holding you up only because he was an idiot when you first met, or because you’re scared…well, I really think you should give him a chance.  I don’t think you’ll regret it.  And if you do, just come find me, and I’ll whip him into shape.”_

_She was blushing from being relieved by Steve’s words, and excited for her and Bucky’s date if she was being honest with herself, “Thanks Steve, that means a lot coming from you.”_

_“Good, now let’s kick this last test’s ass so we can get on with our weekend,” Steve said as he gave her a light smack on the arm._

_Steve coached her through the course and she made it through without hitting any mines.  During Wanda’s turn to give directions, she showed that effortless precision with being able to direct and have oversight from afar, “Almost there, Rogers.  Two clicks north…That’s it.  Now three paces south.  Good.  Okay, move five feet to your left…just a little farther.  Okay, now on the ground.  You’re going to army crawl ten yards.  Make sure you keep your head down…Almost…You’re there!  YES!”_

_The four of them had forgotten about anything stressful in that moment.  Steve gave Wanda a huge hug and a high five, “That a girl!  Great job, Maximoff.”  Loki and her joked around and hugged as Natasha came over to Steve._

_“You’re quite the coach there, Soldier.  It’s almost like you were a Captain in the Army or something,” Natasha grinned._

_They’d made it through half the day.  He didn’t know why, but the combination of having the weekend in site, and forgetting about the morning, and the way she was looking at him right now, made Steve blush a deep crimson color as he grabbed the back of his neck, “Thanks, Nat.  You were amazing with Loki today too.”_

_Before the rest of the team made it over to them, Fury was yelling through his megaphone, “Great job everyone…on the first part of your day.  Let’s get back to the auditorium now for the last part of the test.”_

_The class looked at each other with surprise.  While they didn’t know the details of the morning session before they started, they knew that it would involve multiple stations.  They didn’t realize there was another portion to the day, and they had a feeling that Fury and his team designed it that way._

_Everyone returned to their seats as Fury said, “I mentioned earlier how important it is to trust yourself and your partners, and I also mentioned your team.  The missions you will be on in real life at the FBI won’t be solved by one or even two people.  They require everyone’s focus and skills on a team.”_

_So much for a reprieve from the stressful events of the morning with the tattoo and Stark._

_Fury continued, “We’ve been watching all of you over the last ten weeks.  We’ve seen the bonds of trust you’ve formed inside of your groups of friends and that’s a good thing.  You have to rely on each other in the field and at the office.  So, for the final exercise, you will be grouped up with the teams you’ve become acclimated to.”_

_Natasha wasn’t going to have this weekend to think about anything.  She’d have to encounter everyone soon._

_“Each of you will share something about yourselves that requires you to put your faith and trust in the other team members.  We don’t care about the specifics of what you share.  That is between you and your group.  There are no recordings, no observations, and no time restrictions to this.  What we do care about is everyone having trust in each other by the end of it.  When you’re done, each of you will take a polygraph, so we can see if there’s anyone here that you don’t trust.  Okay, good luck.”_

_This was unexpected and honestly weird.  Everyone had heard of Fury’s mind games and unique way of running things at Quantico.  This was the biggest example they’d encountered so far with his ‘way.’_

_Natasha bent over in her seat, and put her head between her knees.  Wanda and Loki glanced at Steve and Natasha with worried expressions.  They were more than willing to be patient for Natasha to open up, but they couldn’t say the same for everyone else._

_“Natasha, it’s going to be okay,” Steve started.  And he meant it.  This wasn’t about her revealing anything dangerous.  This was about her fighting her inner demons and having the courage to let more people into her life.  A little bit would go a long way._

_Natasha looked up at him as he grabbed her hand, “How can you honestly say that Steve with what happened this morning?”_

_Steve took a deep breath.  He was going to have to snap her out of this, “Natasha, you’re lost in your head right now and letting the fear hold you…Look at them.  Right now, by not telling them anything, they’re filling in the blanks on their own.  And it’s not good.”_

_Natasha swallowed as he continued, “Look, I know you encountered a lot worse in life.  Think about your childhood and your life as a teenager…and the bullshit you had to put up with in the Navy.  This is nothing compared to any of that.  Trust isn’t about details.  It’s about a general feeling you get with someone.  Fury is right.  We have to be able to rely on each other and all of them.  Our lives will depend on it someday.  So, you’re going to have to suck it up and let them in.  You don’t have to tell them specifics or anything risky, but you have to tell them something if you want to get past this.”_

_Natasha focused on his words and shook her head in disbelief, “Did you just tell me to suck it up, Rogers?”_

_Steve smiled at her and said, “You know I did, and I know you will.”_

_He knew how to cut through the bullshit when it mattered most.  She knew he was right, but she was still nervous about what she would say.  Steve squeezed her knee, “You know I got your back in there, Nat.  We can get through anything, together.”_

_They stood up and approached their team as Sam whispered to Bucky, “Well this is awkward.”_

* * *

**_2 years ago_  ** _– Cabin_

_In the dark cabin, Natasha and Steve laid on the oak table, half-naked, and processing what just happened between them._

_Natasha slid her hand toward Steve’s, and laced their fingers together.  It was the only part of them touching after feeling every inch of each other, only moments ago._

_“I think I’m at a loss for words,” Natasha said._

_Steve squeezed her hand, “Natasha, we’ve never needed words for what just happened.  That’s something that’s never changed between us.”  She blushed, turning her head towards him.  He followed her and noticed her starting to shiver as he felt a chill go over his own sweaty skin._

_Steve said, “We’re going to freeze if we don’t get some heat going in here…real heat.”_

_He reached over to touch her stomach and could feel all the energy nervously transferring between them.  For a brief moment, it was Quantico.  It was afterwards when they were FBI agents in New York as they stayed at each other’s apartments they lived in with their friends.  It was when they shared their own apartment together.  It was their life flowing through his thoughts in an instant, and he couldn’t help it as his lips found her soft skin on her belly, right by his hand._

_How many hours…days…if he counted up all of the cumulative time, had he spent in a similar position, kissing her stomach, where she was so soft and warm, and all his?_

_His nose brushed over her skin as he felt her tremble underneath and he stopped.  He rested his forehead on her stomach for a moment as another thought came rushing through, ‘This isn’t like any of those other times, and you know it.’_

_The pull of their past and pain was looming, but he pushed it away as he lifted his head away, trying to clear it for a second.  His hands moved up to her bra.  He pulled it down as he cupped her breasts.  He was failing miserably at trying to clear his head.  He lingered over them for a moment, not wanting to move.  Not wanting the moment to be over._

_She looked down at his hand and thought, ‘This didn’t go according to plan.’_

_It never did with them._

_After a few more seconds, he helped her pull down her shirt as he moved a red strand of hair out of her eyes._

_He glanced down at their naked, bottom halves with their socks still on and laughed, “I guess we were trying to be efficient with our time.”  The joke fell flat.  He was trying to get out of his head right now, because after they had succumbed to their passion and…love…they were left with everything else and the weight of it was bearing down on them.  He was just trying to keep all of that baggage away, for a little longer._

_They sat up.  Steve got off the table and pulled on his boxers and pants quickly.  He looked over at Natasha.  She hadn’t moved after sitting up.  She stared down at where their hands were just touching._

_God, this was fucked up, but Steve continued to deny his conscious from having a voice as he walked around the table, standing right by her now.  Natasha’s head was level with his chest as his hand found her cheek, running his thumb along her skin as she leaned into it._

_He didn’t **know**  what was going through her head right now, but he had a good idea that it was everything he was demanding to stay quiet in his own brain. _

_The warmth of his fingers clashed with the chilled air inside, and suddenly, Natasha became very cold.  Her skin was clammy, but it wasn’t just that.  It was her heart.  It was like the cold air and their bitter reality was puncturing her heart._

_What they just shared wasn’t enough, and she was starting to feel desperate again – desperate to feel every part of him and to remember what they once had._

_Steve’s face was strained, recognizing the look in her eyes as he leaned down to kiss her forehead._

_Now, he **knew**  exactly what she was feeling because he had felt it so many times over the last seven years – desperation. _

_She wasn’t moving…like the cold she was feeling inside and out, froze her, so Steve bent over and arranged her black underwear and jeans, moving them up both of her legs.  Stopping at the top of her thighs, he reached around her waist and lifted her up, and awkwardly got her dressed again._

_“Natasha, I’m serious, we’re going to have to figure out a way to stay warm in here if we want to stay.”_

_At this point he was just talking to himself because she hadn’t moved in a couple of minutes, but when he got closer and put both hands on her cheeks now, she finally looked at him again._

_He couldn’t see much, but he could see the dark shimmer of tears starting to spill from her eyes as she said, “I think there’s a bed and a space heater upstairs in the loft.  That way, we won’t have to turn any lights on or light the fireplace tonight.”_

_The secrecy of their rendezvous was lingering behind her words, but he just nodded with understanding.  He held out his hand to see if she’d take it to stand up.  She didn’t though.  She just stared at him again, looking so lost and vulnerable._

_He had been furious, desperate, anxious, and felt a whole lot of other feelings towards Natasha tonight.  But for the first time since he arrived, Steve was actually scared at what was going through her mind._

_So, Steve let out a nervous breath and pushed all of his feelings aside for the moment and gave in to his need to protect her, “Come here, Natasha.”_

_She was so relieved by his words, and they were so familiar with each other, that when he bent over this time, they moved in sync._

_Natasha wrapped her arms around his neck, and he reached around the small of her back to lift her up.  She wrapped her legs around his waist again, but this time it was because she needed to feel the safety of his arms and body._

_Steve held her for a moment and touched their foreheads together.  As he stroked her hair, her fingers began tracing soft patterns on his neck.  He looked around in the dark to see the faintly lit path to the stairs, and carried her over.  He knew the climb would be difficult up the narrow steps, but he didn’t want to let her go now that he had her._

_How true that statement was beyond the confines of this cabin.  The desperation was rising in him too._

_Natasha could feel his hesitation and realized they were at the bottom of the staircase as she whispered, “Thank you, Steve.”  She kissed him softly on the cheek, lowering her legs, and turned around to take the lead in the dark._

_That desperate pull inside of him had Steve missing her in his arms already.  He followed her up the stairs, but found one of her hands reaching for his, and he held onto it as his other tucked into waist of her jeans._

_Up in the loft, they found a bed covered in sheets and pulled them off, finding a queen bed with several blankets, a quilted comforter, and several pillows underneath._

_Steve reluctantly pulled away from Natasha and found the breaker box at the top of the stairs and flipped the fuse for the loft.  Feeling around in the dark, he found the space heater in the corner, plugged it in, and turned it on high._

_A soft glow came from the coil inside the heater, and Steve could feel a little warmth starting to spread from it already.  The glow from the box shed the smallest amount of light in the room, and he was able to make out where Natasha was.  There were no windows in the loft, so the little light they had, was concealed to the outside world._

_Natasha wasn’t having the success Steve was having with pushing her feelings away.  Her self-hatred, guilt, sadness, regret, fear, and love – they were eating away at her.  She couldn’t believe they said they loved each other only moments ago.  Well, she could believe it, but it just made all of those other feelings stronger, and more acidic inside of her._

_Natasha wasn’t going to have the composure and courage she was feeling for very long, so she said, “Steve, we need to talk.”_

_Steve was ten feet away from her, and his body went rigid at the sound of those five words.  Another punch to the gut.  He knew everything she was thinking, and he was trying his hardest to stop himself from losing it on her as he dealt with his own bubbling of emotions.  He just wanted to feel what he did downstairs, a little while longer.  Just for tonight._

_‘That’s because she’s like a drug, Rogers,’ he thought to himself.  He looked over to where she was standing again and let out a long breath of frustration._

_“Damn it, Natasha.  I can see those wheels in your head turning, and they’re causing your brain to loosen a few screws.  For once, can we just…can we just not do this right now?”_

_Steve moved to the opposite side of the bed, and they were close enough again to see each other’s faces.  Their eyes met, and he cut her off before she could actually speak again. “Look, I took the next two days off, and no one knows where I am.  Just like, I know no one knows where you are right now.  Probably not even Clint.  So, we have two days and nights ahead of us to hash out everything we’re keeping inside right now.  Believe me, I have a lot to say too.”_

_Silently agreeing to what Steve was saying, Natasha nodded and reached down to brush over the comforter.  His hand followed hers, until he was covering it as he pulled her into his chest._

_She sank into his embrace as she felt his beard against her cheek, warming her, and she whispered, “Steve, I just want you to know, that what I said down on the table…when we were together…I meant it.  I still love you.  You have to know that.”_

_“I do know that.  I meant it too,” was all he said back._

_In the very near future, they would talk and most definitely fight.  But for tonight, they would just be there together.  They would just be with each other.  They would just be._

* * *

**Present Day –** Driving

It was dark out now.  The day had already been a long one.  Steve saw he was only fifteen miles to his destination.  The busy roads and traffic from the city were gone.  The freeways he took to get out of the city limits changed to a highway, and then to a desolate, two-lane county road that he was currently on. 

Steve knew in his gut when they made Loki’s arrest today, Natasha would somehow get brought up.  So, he had tried to prepare himself for anything Loki might throw his way today.  But as soon as Loki said those words, any mental preparations dissolved as everything rational went out the window.

He didn’t know what to think.  For the last hour, he shoved away the idea of hope even though he wanted to believe Loki.  All the lies from the past and all the pain came rushing in as his memories with Natasha replayed in his brain.  He already lost her once, and he barely survived. 

And now, he was barely keeping it together.  But as he looked in his mirror, his mind cleared, he focused, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.  Adrenaline flooded to his head and his heart began racing.  A stark contrast on the quiet road emerged as he saw headlights in his mirror, approaching fast.   

The lights became closer and closer…and closer.  He instantly knew this wasn’t another car out for a drive. 

Rogers was pushing 90 in his SUV, and this vehicle was coming up on his rear.  Steve squinted his eyes from the bright light, and he noticed two other vehicles come out from behind the other one.  They moved past the one at his rear.  One sped around him quickly, and the other stayed at his side. He was boxed in on the two-lane road. 

A few seconds later, Steve was forced off the road at a rest stop.  He was furious.  This was taking away time from what Loki had told him – six hours.  Steve tried to look around in the dark to see what was happening, but the three SUV’s surrounded his vehicle with their high beams on.

Steve heard a door shut and saw a figure approaching his vehicle.  He grabbed his gun and quickly exited his SUV.  He knew this wasn’t typical protocol, but he didn’t care because time was of the essence.  He drew his gun behind his door and yelled toward the figure, “Put your hands up where I can see them.”

The figure didn’t stop though.  It kept walking towards Steve until he could see who it was.  “It’s nice to see you again, Rogers,” the figure said. 

Steve looked wide-eyed at the figure and said, “What the hell are you doing here, Clint?”

* * *

 

 

 


	12. Reflections

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I hope you enjoy this chapter and image board below.
> 
> Quick note at the end.

Memories & Reality

 

I do not own any of this or any part of Marvel or the MCU

_Chapter 12 – Reflections_

* * *

**_12 Years Ago –_ **

_Silence._

_Fury and his team directed all of the FBI training groups to their rooms for the final part of their trust exercise.  And silence is what the white-tiled room was filled with, where the 11 team members sat around in a circle._

_The mission – share with your team, trust your team, prove that trust through a polygraph.  Simple enough, right?_

_Reality - the team’s emotions were running high, and the mission wasn’t looking like there’d be a positive outcome right now._

_Natasha stared at Tony.  Steve looked at Nat, worried.  Bucky watched his brother with apprehension.  And everyone else looked exhausted, except Loki.  Loki was grinning as he reveled in the awkward tension as he often did.  He always commented how moments like these were when you found out who people really were, and he loved finding out who people really were.  Regardless, it had been a long morning on top of an already lengthy 10 weeks._

_This weekend couldn’t come fast enough._

_If they were all being honest, the actual act in itself, of finding a mysterious tattoo on Romanoff’s back, that sparked a few questions, wasn’t a big deal.  At all.  But…Tony had this faux rivalry with Natasha from day one.  Their competitive sides didn’t know when to quit, and that created an edge within the group.  When they were in good spirits, that side of Tony and Natasha could be fun, jovial, and light, causing amusing jokes and quick banter that had everyone laughing._

_And they had mellowed toward each other…somewhat, until this morning._

_But, add in 10 weeks of grinding, hard work, with no time away from each other.  And on top of that, add in the piles of questions that everyone **did** have about Natasha with her secrecy and deflective behavior.  And on top of **that,** add in a protective Steve Rogers and his protective and worried brother, James Barnes.  What you have as a result, is a room full of friends and team members who feel like they’re having to pick sides, and nothing good ever comes of that.  _

_So, the mission right now actually felt like something essentially called, ‘Operation air dirty laundry.’_

_Damn Fury’s mind games._

_A note was in the middle of the room in an envelope along with a scanning device that could check for electronic bugs or any other monitoring equipment._

_Maria let out a sigh and broke through the quiet void, “I guess I’ll be the one to start us on this roller coaster.”  She sat back down by Wanda and opened the envelope.  “You’re on your own in here, but feel free to check for yourself.  Directions are clear.  See you on the other side – NJF,” Maria read out loud._

_“It’s sweeps for bugs,” Wanda added, pointing to the device as she grabbed it.  She looked around.  No one was saying anything still, so she shrugged her shoulders, and ran the scanner over the room for a couple of minutes.  “We’re clear.  We’re on our own in here.  So, who wants to start?”_

_Natasha dropped her stare from Tony and started picking at her cuticles._

_It only drew the focus to her.  Wanda had come to the conclusion that she was more than okay with Romanoff during this morning’s exercises.  No one in this room was perfect as far as she was concerned, and right now, she actually felt sorry for Natasha.  Wanda genuinely liked and cared about her teammate and friend.  Loki had thought the same more or less, but he was more than happy to sit back and watch the shit show unfold for his own amusement right now.  He arched his eyebrow at Maximoff and gave a sly grin and she scowled at him._

_‘All she’s done is prove herself to be a fantastic trainee since being here.  To hell with this,’ Wanda thought._

_She scanned the room and caught Bucky’s eyes.  She tried to communicate silently with him, telling him to relax, but he wouldn’t.  No one would.  She just rolled her eyes, finally causing him to look at her as he mouthed, ‘What did I do?’_

_“Children, all of you,” Wanda hushed under her breath before she finally broke the silence for good, “Well, for people that are supposed to have the element of surprise as a weapon in their toolbox, I’d say those stares everyone is giving Natasha are more than a little predictable.  I’ll go first.”_

_Everyone’s eyes darted towards Maximoff.  Wanda caught Natasha’s eyes and gave her a slight smile.  Natasha cheeks became red, humbled by Wanda’s compassion and said silently, ‘Thank you,’ to her._

_“So, for the last five minutes, I’ve been trying to think of what I could tell you that would help you trust me more.  And, to show I trust all of you…as stubborn idiots as you all can be sometimes…but, I relent because we’re supposed to accept the good and bad in each other, right?”_

_Wanda looked right at Bucky, and he looked just as clueless as before, as she continued, “So here it goes.  I have a twin brother.  Pietro.  He’s not well.  I never talk about him because I really struggle with my feelings towards someone that I was literally born side by side with.  He’s been a drug addict for a long time.  And for the longest time, my family and I fought for him harder than he would himself.  I have had to accept that I can’t change him.  And if he doesn’t find a way out of this, and find the strength within himself to stop using, he’s not going to be in my life much longer.  I am filled with dread, and I hate any surprise phone calls because I always think, ‘This is finally it.  It’s the cops calling.  He’s dead.’_

_The pettiness of most of the trainees’ emotions had been sucked out of the room with the crisp truth of Wanda’s words.  This was reality.  This was the point of Fury’s exercise._

_She took a deep breath, “If I’m being honest with you all, I can tell you that I feel so many things towards someone that is supposed to have been with me in life, every step of the way – anger, embarrassment, regret…love.  No matter what happens, I have faith in my love for him.  Because he is family.”_

_It was obvious how difficult it was for Wanda to share this part of her life.  Her voice was a little shaky as she finished, “And there is part of that faith in this room right now.  I can see it in all of the bonds that are forming, whether you want to admit it or not.  Believe me, I wouldn’t be sharing this part of myself with you, if I didn’t trust you all, for better or worse.”_

_Bucky stared at her like he had been punched in the gut.  His infatuation with her only grew, but more importantly, he finally started to understand what she was trying to silently communicate with him before – to take a breath and figure out what this is really about._

_Maria leaned over and gave her a hug.  And now a sense of embarrassment came over pretty much everyone else’s faces, realizing like Bucky just did, what Fury’s mind game and this trust exercise was truly about.  You have to break people down to form a bond that is going to be strong enough in life or death situations._

_On a different level, Natasha’s understood Wanda’s struggle to her core.  Empathy washed over her as she felt embarrassed for being so self-centered over the last few hours.  She and Steve weren’t the only ones with demons in their head.  Steve was right, she was going to have to suck it up._

_One-by-one, everyone started to share._

_Banner talked about going to Medical School before joining the FBI.  He said he’d never be good enough for his parents though.  While his father wasn’t physically abusive, he was angry, all the time.  Part of Bruce’s mantra in life, was trying to find ways to express and communicate outside of anger, which explained why he often had a calming demeanor.  And it’s probably why he’ll make a great shrink in the FBI someday.  He admitted how much the friendships here, have filled a hole in his life, and how he thought of them as family._

_James Rhodes talked about his Dad - a politician who wanted James to follow in his footsteps. It was an expectation.  Rhodey never wanted that though, and he chose to go down his own path – to become a marine to serve and protect.  And his Dad hated him for it.  Rhodey never looked back though, and felt more free in the Marine Corps and here at the FBI, then he ever did within the comforts of his father’s political lifestyle._

_Thor talked about growing up with a family of fighters.  UFC, Boxing, and any type of athleticism was the emphasis of his upbringing.  He trained in Norway for a few years as a teenager because of how naturally big and strong he was.  He joked about that’s probably why he talks funny sometimes.  But as much as his siblings and parents fed off of that fight, he never really did.  He wanted to do more than to punch people in life, and his Uncle Heimdall took him under his wing at 17, and had him come live with him.  Heimdall helped him focus on academics, allowing Thor to observe and study instead of throwing punches.  He knows he’s here because of his Uncle, and couldn’t be more grateful._

_Sam talked about losing his wingman and friend in the Air Force while on a mission.  He’d been dealing with survivor’s guilt ever since.  But he didn’t claw his way out of that failed mission, surviving it, only to waste his life away in guilt.  He was here because he still wanted to serve, but in a different way after his years in the military were done.  “Everything leads to something.  And somehow, that failed mission led me to the FBI and being in this room with all of you,” he finished sounding sad and feeling blessed at the same time._

_Maria revealed she was raised in a family of boys and cops, and she’d lost her mother to an illness at a very early age.  She acted tough, but deep down, family was everything to her, but the NYPD wasn’t enough.  She wanted more.  Even though it’s only been 10 weeks, she told everyone she feels right at home with all of her FBI brothers and sisters in this room.  She looked at Natasha and Tony, and ended with, “And I can tell you, growing up with a lot of **very** competitive men, that families fight.  It’s what they do…and then they forgive.”_

_Tony surprised everyone by going next.  He admitted he has an outward distrust of people, stemming from his Dad’s unfaithful behavior towards his mom.  He added that seeing too much of how the sausage was made in this country through his Dad’s weapons manufacturing company, has caused him to be cynical and overly suspicious._

_“You grow up thinking…guns help our country in wars.  My Dad makes guns.  My Dad is a war hero.  Then you actually grow up, and instead realize, the people who make guns, profit from war and want the war to continue.  So yeah, I’m a little disillusioned and an ass, who at times can overreact, but I try not to mean any harm.”  Natasha looked up at him finally as he stared at her and finished, “But believe me when I say that I really want to trust and believe in everyone in this room.  I feel more at home here than I ever did in my actual one.”_

_Natasha flinched.  It was quick and minor.  Steve caught it and looked at her.  He knew what she was thinking.  Everyone who had shared so far - Natasha actually felt like she had something in common with them._

_Angry family members who pass their sins on.  Expectations causing limitations in your life, only making you want to break free.  And finding a home here that is better than the home you had growing up.  The last one, by Tony Stark of all people, hit her more than anyone’s had._

_What Natasha was experiencing was a growth in her bonds of friendship that she had never experienced before.  The idea of friendship like this was so foreign to her 10 weeks ago, but now it wasn’t just Steve that she cared about in this room.  It was everyone._

_Loki revealed he experimented with drugs in college and wasn’t afraid to admit his flaws.  This surprised no one.  But what did surprise everyone, was when he shared that he had a volatile relationship with his father who was a ruthless, Wall Street CEO, and a power-hungry individual.  His mother was his godsend in life, but he hated that she was still with his father.  She was his anchor though and helped him see that he could use his talents for good in the world, and she was the one who encouraged him to join the FBI.  He wouldn’t be here today without her._

_And then there were three._

_Bucky looked over at the pair and laughed to himself.  ‘I thought I was stubborn.  They found their match in each other.’_

_But he decided to give them a little bit longer to think and started speaking, “For the longest time, the family I had in life wasn’t one that I was born into.”  Bucky looked at Steve as they both gave the slightest of nods, understanding everything behind those words, “And honestly, I couldn’t feel luckier to have a guy like Steve as my brother, and a woman like my mom, Sarah…When you have that trust in people, it does more than you could ever think.  It saves you.”_

_Steve smiled at him, having a pretty good idea where Bucky was going with this, “I can’t tell you details because it was a military ops gone bad.  Really bad.  But when Cap and I were shot down in a chopper overseas with our platoon, we thought it was time to meet our maker.  And if it would have been the end, I would have been there with my brother and brothers in the army.”_

_Bucky paused to smile back at Steve as he continued, “But it wasn’t.  We fought our way out.  We all saved each other.  We survived.  We lived to fight another day…because we had trust in each other.  So, I can tell you, I feel that same sort of bond forming here.  Or at least starting to form.  And I want that.  For a guy that doesn’t come off as expressing his feelings easily, and someone who hides behinds his personality…well, telling you all this should have been a lot more difficult.  Take that as a compliment, because it’s meant as one.”_

_He gave an understanding look to Romanoff.  She knew he was just trying to protect his brother with all of his love and devotion.  They had been through everything in life together.  How could she not understand?  It’s what she’d been trying to do for as long as she could remember - protect her brother.  He may have been skeptical of her, but it was coming from a good place.  And Natasha only liked Bucky more because of it._

_Another person who also liked what James Buchanan Barnes had to say, was Wanda.  Any hesitation she had about her and Bucky’s upcoming date was completely erased from existence.  She knew she couldn’t avoid the fact that she had a very big crush on the guy who first came off as a flirt, but who really was a very deep and caring man, no matter how much he tried to hide it._

_Through this process, everyone had inadvertently been showing Natasha, that while her story was extreme, and frightening, and parts of it were not able to be talked about, that it was okay to let people into parts of your life, just as they all had.  Steve reached over and squeezed Natasha’s hand.  She looked at him and held his gaze, squeezing back, showing an understanding between them.  She wanted to be here for him as much as he was trying to be there for her._

_Bucky and Steve’s childhood had briefly been touched on, but not in any detail or even straight forward communication.  Bucky and Steve both had bastards of fathers.  Bucky’s left.  Steve’s died.  Bucky became Steve’s actual brother at the age of five when his birth mom died.  That was what had been shared._

_The brothers were so loyal to each other, that Steve had asked Bucky early on if he could share more of their history with Natasha.  Bucky was only happy for Steve in that moment, and of course told him yes._

_So, it didn’t really surprise Bucky when Steve looked over at him, asking silently if it was okay to share something neither one of them hardly ever talked about.  Today was different, and Bucky gave him a single nod, telling him to go ahead.  They didn’t need words._

_“I just want to say thank you.  To everyone who has shared.  I’m sure it doesn’t come naturally to you.  I **know** it doesn’t for me.  But that’s what families do.  They sometimes can bring out the worst in us, but when you have people you can truly rely on and trust, they can bring out the best in us even more.”_

_He never let Natasha’s hand go as she watched him continue, “Bucky and I don’t talk about this often…ever really…actually the first time I ever talked about it outside of Mom, Buck, and me, is with Natasha, about a month in.”_

_Natasha smiled at him with encouragement, as he continued, “Bucky and I had every reason to turn out to be absolute selfish assholes in life, and to only want to take, not give and serve.  We had that excuse to fall back on, because Bucky’s birth father wasn’t a man.  He was a selfish asshole who abandoned him.  And when it rains, it pours sometimes…because when Buck’s birth mom died, he moved in with us, only to find the monster that was my birth father.  I don’t even know I can call him a person. He was pathetic and weak, and he took out his anger and self-hatred, with the help of his alcoholism, on a couple of five-year-old boys and our mom, Sarah, up until he died when we were seven.”_

_Steve looked at his brother and they both gave each other tired smiles, “I don’t need to fill in any specifics.  I can assure you they’re probably worse than what you’re imagining.  But, that’s not the point.  The point is, we didn’t fall back on that excuse.  We didn’t continue any cycles of violence.  We didn’t become our fathers, because we had each other and Mom.  We saved each other because of our love and trust and family.  And as weird as Fury’s mind games are, I think that is the ultimate point of this whole thing.”_

_Like so many times in his life, whether it was in sports in high school, in his neighborhood as a kid, or endless times in the Army, Steve had the attention of the room, because everyone believed in him.  It was such a natural thing.  Bucky looked at Natasha as she watched Steve with admiration.  It was a look that Bucky knew well, because he had been looking at his brother like that his entire life._

_Steve then did what he did best.  He led._

_He told Tony, that he understood his natural distrust in people.  He told Wanda, Rhodey, Loki, Bruce, Thor, and Maria collectively that while their circumstances were all different, he understood their disappointment in family not meeting expectations whether it was from unfair deaths, or expectations being thrust upon you, or simply from not having a caring or reliable father.  He told Sam he understood survivor’s guilt and that he was really glad that he pulled himself out of the darkness, and found his way here to continue to serve, “You’re a good man, Sam.  And a damn good friend.”_

_Steve didn’t need to say anything to Bucky.  They both understood and just nodded at each other._

_As Steve saw a few smiles and nods from his friends, he finished, “I connect with each of you and trust all of you.  I hope you feel the same for me.  So, believe me when I say, I trust Natasha Romanoff with all of my heart, and you should too.”_

_Natasha’s eyes were glassy as he ran his thumb over the back of her hand.  She saw the women in the room smile at her with encouragement, and she even saw a nod from Stark and Bucky, trying to show the smallest signs of reassurance._

_Each person bared something painful in the room because they thought of their group as close friends, and felt the start of a family forming.  Natasha was feeling it too, and was coming to terms with something she wasn’t used to – opening up._

_She took a deep breath, looked at Steve and let go of him as she took off her sweatshirt and turned her back to the group._

_While lowering the strap on her tank top to reveal her tattoo, she said, “I’m trying to be honest here.  So, I’ll tell you that if Tony wouldn’t have accidentally revealed the Navy tattoo, I probably wouldn’t be telling you this.”_

_She put her sweatshirt on, turned back around to face everyone, and said, “But you’re my friends, which I haven’t had a lot of in life.  And when I say that, I mean none.  The orphanage I grew up in didn’t really allow it.  I don’t talk about my time there, because there’s nothing good to tell.”  She looked over at Steve and repeated his words from earlier, “I don’t need to fill in any specifics.  I can assure you they’re probably worse than what you’re imagining.”_

_Steve looked at Natasha like he was concerned and proud of her at the same time as she continued, “I know some of you have felt pressured by your fathers and families to follow in their footsteps, whether it’s fighting (she looked at Thor), or politics (Rhodey), the Police (Maria), or living up to the expectations of the family business (Loki and Stark).  When I was adopted, it became clear early on, that it was the same for me.”_

_She took a breath to continue, “My adopted…parents were ex-military and expected nothing less than perfection from me.  So, from an early age, they taught me about weapons, and made me learn different fighting techniques, including more traditional styles like boxing and militaristic, and various martial arts styles from the east.”_

_It didn’t go unnoticed by Steve how difficult it was for Natasha to say ‘parents.’  He reached over again and grabbed her hand._

_You could hear everyone breathing as she took a second to look around.  There was no anger on anyone’s faces.  Her words were only met with stunned looks and similar expressions to Steve – both looking proud and concerned for her._

_“So, I guess it was only natural that I joined the Navy.  I was recruited immediately into a special forces group because of my talent.  While my CO’s loved being able to use a young and attractive 20-year-old to lure enemies in, my team did not.  I was an outcast and unwanted within the group, and there was no hesitation from any of the Alpha Dogs to share their disapproving thoughts towards me.  So, just like my childhood, my connection was based solely on my skills and talents, not on people that I knew.  I thrived on that, but I also wanted something more.  Something where I felt in control and had a purpose.  Something where I felt accepted and where people had my back…even though I didn’t know where I could find that…until I was here.”_

_She looked right at Steve when she said that, and then she looked at everyone else in the room and smiled at them, showing she meant Steve had helped her find that ‘something’ she was looking for, of course.  But she also meant she was glad she was here because of all of them too._

_Natasha inhaled a deep breath, finding the strength to continue, “I think that’s why I am constantly trying to prove myself and be the best.  And why it’s so natural for me to be closed off and not share.  I was never taught that, even though I’ve always wanted it.”  She looked over at Stark, and did something that shocked Steve.  “I’m sorry about this morning Tony.  And I’m sorry if I gave anyone the wrong impression.”_

_Steve wasn’t the only one shocked by her words.  Tony didn’t waste a second, “No, I’m sorry, Red…Really.”_

_They grinned at each other from the seriousness and really, silliness of it all.  As any and all of the lingering tension was released from the room by their exchange, a couple of “Thank gods,” were even mumbled by Rhodey and Sam._

_A couple of tears fell down her cheek as she said, “I took a chance on the FBI, and I’m so glad I did.  Because I found everything I’ve been looking for when I met Steve.  And I’ve found everything I didn’t even know I was looking for in all of you.”_

_Somehow, she did it._

_Natasha shared almost nothing specific, but also shared so much with everyone.  Steve had been right.  It was opening up that mattered.  Not the details.  She could keep the frightening and dangerous parts in the shadows, while still showing trust._

_Steve immediately pulled Natasha into a warm, enveloping hug, and kissed her forehead, “I am so proud of you, Nat.”  She was beginning to realize the four-letter word that began with “L” was what came to mind, as she thought about how she felt about this man.  Her compass.  But she wasn’t ready to go there, so she settled her thoughts in telling herself how much she absolutely loved feeling engulfed by his strength and his arms and his…just everything._

_She pressed her forehead into his chest and smiled, before she pulled away._

_“You certainly make things interesting.  I will never get bored with you, that I’m sure of, Romanoff,” Loki joked before he left the room.  Wanda and Maria both came up and gave her smothering hugs.  Tony just nodded to her before he left the room with everyone else._

_Bucky came over to both of them, “You know, Steve, sometimes you’re not a punk.”_

_The term of endearment towards Steve said everything that was needed as Steve answered, “Yeah, Buck…sometimes you can even stop being a jerk too.”  Bucky gave Natasha a nod and a grin as they left to take their polygraphs._

_Everyone passed the polygraph with flying color.  This was again, to no one’s surprise, after all their intimate moments were shared in their final trust exercise.  The group had moved forward in big ways, and now they could finally move onto their weekend._

* * *

_“Okay Steve, that’s it.  I packed a little of everything since you won’t tell me where we’re going, but I think I’m ready.”  Steve stood up and pulled her into his arms and kissed her cheek, “I am so proud of you for opening up to the team.”_

_Natasha smiled into his shoulder, “I think you already told me that, Rogers.”  Steve tightened his arms around her, “Well, sometimes, some words are worth repeating.”_

_Coming from anyone else, those words would reek of being cliché.  But Steve was the antonym to a cliché.  He was so earnest when he expressed his care and concern and encouragement to Natasha in moments like this, that she could never mistake him for being anything but genuine.  She tried to shake away the blush that was creeping up on the back of her neck and cheeks, “I couldn’t have done it without you, Steve.”_

_The hallway was empty when Steve had arrived at Natasha’s room, because mostly, everyone had scattered as quickly as they could, trying to get every second out of their weekend off._

_Right as Steve leaned in to kiss Natasha, there was a knock at her open door, “You know…You’ll actually have privacy this weekend, wherever Steve is taking the two of you…that way, it can save all of our eyes from all the gushy swooning going on.”  Bucky was back to his normal self, as he stood there with a shit-eating grin on his face._

_Natasha hid behind Steve as he laughed at his Brother’s interruption, “You know Buck, some people might say that a person’s individual room is private.”_

_Bucky had walked over to Wanda’s room and picked her up so they could go and see Steve and Natasha before they left.  He walked in with Wanda at Steve’s comment, “The door is open, Steve.  Not sure what type of voyeurism you two are into, but I’ll let you in on a little secret – that’s not private.”_

_Steve rolled his eyes but smirked as Natasha came into full view from behind Steve.  Bucky had a smug grin on his face, like he always does when him and his brother start giving each other a hard time. But Natasha didn’t want to let him have the upper hand here._

_“Speaking of weekends and privacy and swooning, I’m sure you’re happy you’re one of the few souls on campus this weekend, Bucky.  With operation, sweep Maximoff off her feet, in full affect now,” Natasha joked.  Steve laughed at Bucky’s dumbfounded look and Wanda’s grin.  Somehow, she thought getting the best of Bucky would never get old.  That’s what friends are for._

_“Annyway,” Wanda started, “James and I just came by to see you off.  I can’t wait to hear all about it when you get back.”  Natasha let out a frustrating breath, "Well, I wish I could tell you where this one,” (pointing at Steve), “was kidnapping me to.  But he’s absolutely no fun and won’t give me any clues.”_

_Steve grinned at Bucky after winking down at Natasha, “Guilty, Nat…happily admitting that I am guilty as charged on this one.”_

_Bucky couldn’t help himself, “Aww, does Romanoff not like it when she doesn’t know everything?  Well, that’s too bad.  I just happen to know exactly where you’re going, and damn, I promised Steve I wouldn’t tell.”  She tried to be annoyed at Bucky, but the Barnes’ charm was almost equal to Steve’s, in a different way…more like a scoundrel._

_So, Natasha couldn’t help when a laugh escaped as she shook her head at Bucky, “Wanda, isn’t it driving you crazy that you don’t know what you’re doing with this idiot this weekend?  Wanda just smiled and shook her head, “No.  Sorry, Natasha.  I think you’re on your own here.  I like surprises.”_

_Steve picked up Natasha’s bag and slung his arm around her shoulders, “Wanda, I think Nat could learn a thing or two from you.  What do you say, Romanoff…Should we do this?”  A reluctant smile from her told him yes._

_Walking out of the building a minute later, Wanda gave Natasha a quick hug, “Surprises are wonderful sometimes, Natasha.  Just enjoy your weekend.  You guys deserve it.”_

_Steve gave Bucky a smack on the shoulder, “Hold down the fort here Buck…And remember what I said, Wanda.  If this guy gives you any trouble, come find me, and I’ll take care of it.”  Bucky and Wanda laughed as they waved and watched Steve and Natasha leave._

* * *

_Wanda was more nervous than she could remember, being around Bucky.  The words of encouragement from Steve as they were partnered up earlier, and the honest and real side she saw of James today, had her feeling butterflies in her stomach that she had been denying even existed before now._

_Instead of being able to hide behind jokes, and denying Bucky of his attempts at flirting with her, she was now faced with the real fact that she was going to go out with him this weekend.  And while they were both feeling a little nervous, they really couldn’t be more excited either._

_“I’m not whisking you away to a mysterious weekend getaway or anything, but I am really looking forward to tonight, Wanda.”  She looked up at his light blue eyes and felt a warmth inside, causing her to stand on her toes as she kissed him gently on the cheeks, “So am I, James.”_

* * *

_Steve loaded the bags into the trunk of the rental car for their weekend and got into the drivers’ seat, “Just be honest, Romanoff.  The only reason you’re really annoyed about being kept in the dark on where we’re going, is that you hate that you’re not driving.”_

_She smiled, “I think I would prefer to drive something with a little more get up and go, but that’s the price you pay with a rental.”  Steve chuckled, “Hopefully my Harley has enough get up and go for you once we’re done here.  I plan on going a lot of places with you on it.”_

_The thought of being on an open road, gripping Steve as she held onto his bike, well it only made her warm and happy.  An alert from a text message on her phone interrupted the enticing thought.  She looked and had a mixture of excitement and nerves as she read it, “Well, it’s already been a surprising day, so why not make it that much more interesting…Clint just texted back.  He was reluctant at first, but he’ll meet us at a bar tonight.  He told me to text him when we got there to figure out a place.”_

_Steve could see the nerves and worry travelling across Natasha’s face.  He reached over to grab her hand after he started the car, “I know you’re nervous about this, Nat.  But this is only going to be a good thing.  I want to meet this brother of yours.”_

_She blew out a breath and tried to push away her anxiety.  What could go wrong?  They got through today and that was incredibly difficult for her.  Natasha thought today would be a disaster with how the morning started, and it ended up being far from it.  Trying to stay positive, she smiled at Steve as he kissed her knuckles, “Let’s get moving then, Soldier.  The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can finally have our actual privacy and alone time.”_

_“Yes Ma’am,” was all he said as he flashed his pearly whites at her, put on his aviators, and pulled away from Quantico._

* * *

**Present Day –** FBI HQ

The group silently reflected on that day at Quantico, remembering their first glimpse into Natasha’s real life.  Wanda was rubbing Bucky’s back, trying to sooth the worry for his brother away, even though it wasn’t possible. 

Fury blew out a breath.  He couldn’t deny that it was painful for even him to remember all of the times at Quantico with the events of today.  But they had to push forward because his lead agent, and a man he cared an awful lot about, Steve Rogers, was off on his own right now. 

“Alright everyone, it’s going to be a very late night after an already grueling day, so listen up.  Most of HQ is clearing out now, but we’re all staying.  So, the comradery and understanding that’s been displayed the couple of hours, needs to stay…Thor, Stark, Rhodey, Maria, I think it’s time you and your agencies show us your hands and share any information you might have about Natasha’s past.  We’ll need anything from her time at Quantico, from her time in the NYO afterwards, with our team, and then anything from the last seven years.”

The four non-FBI agents went to make their respective phone calls as Fury concluded, “Bucky, Maximoff…you better make arrangements for Peter for the evening, because you’re probably not going home anytime soon.  Sam, get Loki in here.  I’m tired of us watching him from that damn observation room.  We need him to spill everything else he might have, and it’s going to be in here…Oh, and Bruce, figure out what the hell is going to keep us running, food wise tonight.  And get us lots of caffeine…we’re going to need it.”

An array of ‘Yes, Sirs.’ Came from his team as they all scattered and Fury yelled, “Fifteen minutes.  That’s all you have.”

Bucky looked lost as Wanda pulled him into the privacy of a hallway.  Pulling him into her arms, she kissed his neck as he almost fell against her, “Wanda, what the hell was Steve thinking…I know he _wasn’t_ thinking.  That’s the problem.”

Wanda knew full well that Bucky was not only talking about today’s actions with Steve running off on his own, but everything they’d learned today…about how he had met up with Natasha two years ago.  “Shh.  James, you listen to me.  Your brother is one of the strongest men, physically and mentally, that I know…only to be bested by you…And I’m not _biased_ at all.” 

He lifted his head up and tried to smile at her words as she continued, “He may be in over his head, but he’s been in over his head before, and he’s always found his way out.  He’s not like Pietro.  I lost him to a disease and because he couldn’t find his way out.  But you and Steve…you’re the furthest thing from that.”

Bucky’s arms tightened around Wanda at the mention of her brother.  She didn’t bring up him being gone from her life often, but when she did it was for a reason.  Pietro had been gone for almost a decade, but Bucky could still see the sadness in Wanda’s eyes at the mention of him, and it always pained him to see her like that.  He went to pull her head to his chest, instinctively, but she stopped him. 

“James, I don’t bring him up for that.  I bring him up to prove a point.  I loved him in spite of his disease and flaws.  I love you and your brother because of all of your strengths.  So, you listen to me.  Steve and you always find your way back to each other and your family.  Think of when you were growing up, and then in Afghanistan, and then on all the countless missions that went awry over the last decade, he’s always found his way back.  So did you.  We all do.  You need to listen to your wife, and you need to stop spinning your brain in circles right now…so we can focus and find him…and Natasha if it’s possible.”

“What do we tell my Mom, Wanda?” Bucky asked as his hands fell to her hips, wanting to get lost in her comfort for a moment.

She looked at him questioningly, “James, Sarah is a strong woman.  But we don’t tell her anything right now, except that we’re working late.  She understands, it’s the job.  That’s what she’s been told, every time any of us have been in danger and she’s had to help with Peter.”

“This time feels different though.” 

It did feel different, and Wanda felt that too.  But she wasn’t going to lose faith.  They were each other’s foundations of strength when they needed it.  God knows she’s leaned on him countless times over the years.  And right now, her husband needed her to be strong for him. 

“Maybe it does.  But we’ll tell Sarah something when there’s _actually_ something to tell.  Right now though, I’m going to go call her and talk to Peter.  And you’re going to go splash some cold water on your face.  You’re going to find that endless well of faith you have in your brother.  And then, we’re going to go back into that conference room and learn what we can from everyone, including Loki.”

His lips found hers as she sensed the desperation within him.  She rubbed his neck as she finally felt him take a deep breath, “I love you, Wanda.  Tell Peter I love him and to be good for Mom.”  She smiled at hearing a little of his worry wash away.  Even if it was the smallest amount, “I will.”

* * *

Fifteen minutes later Loki was escorted into the conference room as Sam kept his hands in handcuffs, sitting him at the front of the table. 

Fury stood beside him as Stark, Rhodey, Maria, and Thor all came back in after making their respective phone calls, getting clearance to release information to the joint-task force. 

Loki raised an eyebrow at the way everyone in the room seemed to be getting along better than they had earlier, “Aww…Don’t tell me everyone kissed and made up on my account in here…I was loving the pissing contests and big dick energy everyone was giving off earlier.” 

Fury cut him off, “Can it, Loki.  I’m going to make this very simple.  You tell us everything right now.  We’ve all spent the better part of the last seven years trying to bring down the Russians that Natasha worked for.  We hit a wall after we got those photos 18 months ago, but then you show up out of the blue, turn yourself in, and here we are.”

Bucky interrupted, “Loki, you told Wanda Natasha didn’t die.  You said Steve was in contact with her,” but Loki spoke over him, “Speaking of big dick energy…”

Bucky shut his eyes and breathed through his nose heavily for a second to calm himself before he continued, “Those are some pretty big accusations you told my brother.  So, you’re going to tell me…You’re going to tell all of us what you know about Romanoff, and where you sent Steve running off to.  You’re going to spill every _fucking_ detail you have, or I’ll make you wish Stark and Rhodey had you in one of their black sites.”

Bucky started to get up from his chair, and everyone in the room knew that he wouldn’t hesitate at the moment to start beating the shit out of Loki.  

Loki looked around the room at everyone’s glares and landed on Wanda who had her hand on Bucky’s forearm, pushing him back into his seat, trying to keep him calm.  Wanda looked over at him and pleaded with her eyes, trying to find the friendship they used to have, “Loki, please.  You told Steve he had six hours, and that was almost two hours ago now.”

He paused as he stared at her, but Sam jumped in, “This is sadistic, even for you, Loki.  If Natasha’s alive, it’s pretty sick you would send Steve off while toying with time.  If she isn’t alive, Steve will never recover from that.  You have to know that.  He’s barely here now after seeing those pictures 18 months ago.”

No more joking.  Sam, Bucky, and Wanda had hit a nerve. 

“Let me tell you something, _team_.  I would _never_ hurt Natasha.  Natasha and Steve are like Romeo and Juliet - they’re two star-crossed lovers, on a tortuous path.  They’re fated to be together in life and death.  Hurting Steve would hurt Natasha, so I wouldn’t do that.  What I told you before is true.”  

Fury sat next to Stark now, close to Loki as he asked, “Okay then, if it is true, why the set-up with the farmhouse, the theatrics, and all of us?”

Loki scoffed, “Because if I didn’t actually get your stubborn asses in the same room, you would have refused to work together.  I mean look at you.  You spent most of today tearing into one another and rolling around in the excrement you flung at each other…Be honest, you wouldn’t have come together willingly.  You’ve only calmed down enough now because I dropped two huge bombs about Steve seeing Natasha, and Natasha being alive, on all of you to finally make you reflect.”

He had everyone’s full attention now, “Nicholas, you brought us all together at the NYO after Quantico.  We fought, we trained, and became a great team.  Some might have even used the term family back then.  But when I took matters into my own hands to try and protect my mother after my pathetic father was arrested for his corporate Ponzi scheme, you were all, only too happy to wipe your hands of me.”

Thor answered, “Loki, you hacked into the NSA to try and change your mother’s identity illegally.  That’s a class A felony.”

Loki’s face turned red, “And you are all here, trying to help Steve, after I told you he was with a wanted criminal two years ago who betrayed you.  Steve, good ol’ Steve, who dug up more dirt illegally searching for Natasha over the last seven years than I could have even dreamed about when I hacked into the NSA.  So, don’t try and pretend you’re not all a bunch of fucking hypocrites as long as the crime fits your own desire.” 

Sarcasm was drained from any of Loki’s words.  He had been stripped down emotionally, exposing the raw pain underneath all of his bloviating and deflection.

“So, you found out what I did back then,” Loki said as he looked at Fury, “And you kicked me to the curb.  Easy decision.  I couldn’t be trusted.  Right, Nicholas?”

Wanda knew where Loki was headed as she heard Fury speak.  “It wasn’t an easy decision, Loki.  I didn’t have a choice, the NSA needed someone’s head to roll when they found out.  We kept you out of jail and cleared your record, but we couldn’t let you stay at the FBI after that…I thought it was the best I could do.”

Fury should’ve chosen his words better. 

Loki’s words were covered in anger, “’ _I didn’t have a choice_.’ If I had a nickel every time a criminal or anyone who feels guilt said that, I never would’ve had to sell drugs and sex to make money.  Of course, you had a choice.  Natasha had a choice, and she chose to betray you.  I had a choice, and I chose to do what I could to try and save my mother’s sanity after my father put it through a blender.  You had a choice, Nicholas, and you chose to throw me away…and there were consequences to each of those choices.”

Consequences.

So _many_ consequences were rearing their ugly head right now.  Not just the blatant consequences of Loki being in cuffs from his crimes he knowingly committed over the last seven years.  But the consequences of inexperience.  Loki had been young and naïve, thinking that his team and Fury could protect him when he tried to protect his mother. 

But he was wrong. 

They were all young, when they graduated from Quantico 12 years ago.  Fury, himself was much greener around the gills then, coming into the NYO as an operating field director, with the assignment of heading up a special FBI unit with a fresh and talented team of trainees.  Those recent graduates were everyone in this room right now, and Natasha. 

But, being a new unit with fresh agents, meant he was watched.  He had expectations to meet.  And he followed the orders he was given after he’d found out about the hacking of the NSA and attempted identity fraud for his mother – kick Loki out of the FBI. 

They had been operating as a unit for almost five years when it happened. 

Fury thought he’d done the best he could for Loki, negotiating his charges being dropped in exchange for his excommunication from the FBI.  He wouldn’t make the same mistake today. 

But that’s what happens with horrible miscalculations in our past.  You learn from mistakes, but you also pay for them dearly through consequences. 

Loki wasn’t letting up, “Do you think I care about my record, _Nick_?  Do you think I cared about anything but my family _here_ , at the FBI, when my father turned out to be every bit of an asshole as I always thought he was…When my mother had to pay for his sins, and had to face _his_ public scrutiny and embarrassment for him?  And then I failed her when I couldn’t hide her identity.” 

Loki breathed for a few seconds before he continued, “And pay for it she did.  She wasn’t well after that.  And after I was removed from your good graces, she blamed herself – all the way off the 53rd floor of my father’s abandoned office building, when she flung herself to her death…after I was long gone from the FBI.  I failed her.  And the one place that I thought I had a family outside of my mother, had already thrown me out too.  So, yeah we all have a choice.  And there are _always_ consequences.”

It was a rare site to see Fury speechless, and a little visibly shaken.  But the events of today, and truly of the last seven years were overwhelming, even for him.

The metal of Loki’s cuffs scraped against the wooden table, “I made my bed, and I’m only too happy to lie in it.  I’ve been dealing with it ever since you kicked me out and my mother died.  I may feel that I deserved better.  But Natasha.  She _definitely_ deserved better.  Seven years ago, you all learned the truth about her, only a couple of months after kicking me out.  And then everything in this room that was supposed to be this solid family, turned to shit.” 

“Natasha chose her past over you, she lied to you, and she betrayed you.  She stole from the FBI and became a wanted criminal, right along with her people.  But ask yourselves this.  Besides Steve, did any of you really fight for her?  Or were you only too happy to judge from your moral soap boxes, like you did with me.”

He took a breath.  The room was silent at his words.  Everything he was saying was true.  

Yes, history was much more complicated than the summarized synopsis he was spewing, and the actions of Loki and Natasha were not minor, legal, or okay no matter which way you sliced it.  And 99.99 percent of other FBI agents would have reacted the same way Fury did with Loki, and the rest of the team did with Natasha.  But the people in the room were supposed to be the exception – that’s how families work.  So, at the heart of Loki’s words, a harsh truth rang through the air.

The truth was, Loki used his crimes as vices, and buried himself into building an empire in the criminal underworld.  The further away he got from his life at the FBI, the further he was removed from his pain from losing them, and losing his mother. 

No one argued with him.  Everyone looked down, hiding from the truth in his words, dealing with the pain in their own hearts.

Loki said, “I was the first crack in your precious team here, Nick.  Then when Romanoff left, another crack appeared.  It only takes a couple for the levee to break.”

Loki looked over at the four agents who left the FBI, “Maria, Homeland recruited you six months later, and then Thor, you left for the NSA six years ago.  And finally, Stark and Rhodey, the CIA played on your betrayed feelings and anger, and you left for it, six months after that…So yeah, everyone in this room has had a choice in our history that has brought us right back here, together.”

* * *

**_12 Years Ago –_ **

_“Maybe you should have just blindfolded me, Rogers.”_

_Steve drove himself and Natasha away from Quantico, 30 minutes ago in their rental car._

_Natasha continued to be persistent with her questions about where they were going, but Steve wouldn’t say anything.  He kept telling her it was a surprise, and it’d be worth the wait._

_“Where’s the fun, adventurous spirit, Romanoff?”_

_She gave him a smirk as she rolled down her window and stuck her head outside, letting her hair whip around in the wind as the car moved.  She gave a joyful yell into the air forcefully moving around her.  Part of it might have been her being playfully defiant against his joking challenge to her.  But it didn’t really matter.  In that moment, she looked as free as a bird.  Before he was too taken away by her, Steve had to force himself to keep his eyes on the road._

_Coming all the way back inside with her wind-blown curls, she rolled the window back up and answered him, “I’ve got plenty of spirit, Solider.”  His mouth tugged into a grin as he stared at her out of the side of his aviators, reaching over to tap her knee, “That you do, Nat.  I can’t even pretend to argue with you on that one.”_

_“Hey Steve, if you won’t let me in on the fun and tell me anything about our weekend, will you at least tell me what Bucky has planned for Wanda for tonight?”_

_Steve chuckled.  She was insatiable for having to know something in the absence of not getting her way, “I suppose I can compromise on that one…Maybe it’s simple, but I thought it was perfect for a first date – no need to over-complicate things.”_

_Natasha laughed, “Oh you mean, Wanda’s not going to walk in on a conversation with Bucky and a sibling she didn’t know he had, and find out he was born into a foreign child soldier program?  Yeah, you’re right.  Simple is better.”_

_Steve frowned at her and squeezed her knee.  Her sarcasm and dry humor were part of her charm, but at times like these, he knew she couldn’t help it, even though the comment landed a little flat, and was used more as a coping mechanism on her part than anything._

_So, Steve just continued and kept his hand in place for the time being, rubbing his thumb along her jeans._

_“Yes, simple is better.  Anyway, I had told him about our spot, in between the dorms at Quantico, and how something about it was just peaceful in the middle of a chaotic training campus.  So, he was going to plan a picnic at our spot – an evening dinner – just the two of them.”_

_Natasha looked at him skeptically for a second before she started laughing.  Steve was confused before she said, “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to laugh…really…that sounds lovely.  I’m sure Wanda will adore every second of it.  Really, it’s a great idea.”_

_“Why’d you laugh then, Nat?”_

_“Because sometimes, I feel like I have to pinch myself to keep reminding myself that you are real.  And, even Bucky, who comes off with a devilish attitude when you first meet him, has that same sort of deep substance you’re made of.  I laughed because the two of you are so alike, yet so different.  And both, such good men.”_

_“Two peas in a pod,” Steve started, “That’s what Mom always called us…even though the peas didn’t look anything alike, didn’t start from the same plant, and didn’t act like the other most of the time…She said none of that mattered, because what was underneath was what counted, and that’s where we were the same.”_

_She wasn’t laughing now.  The way Steve would talk about Bucky and his mother, was spell-binding.  It was like he put them on a pedestal, but not really, because where they were in his mind wasn’t a pedestal – it was where they deserved to be.  It was all heart, all sincere, and all Steve._

_Wanda had told her a few weeks ago that it was the same when Natasha wasn’t around, and Steve would talk about her in the same way.  Natasha felt warm then at the thought, and she felt even warmer now._

_Natasha had been staring at Steve, a little lost in her thoughts for a few seconds, and Steve asked, “What is it, Nat?”  She broke out of her trance and bit her lip as she shook her head, “Oh nothing.  I think I was just mentally pinching myself there, again…And I was thinking about your Mom.  And how, I hope you were serious when you said you’d like me to meet her.  Because I think I’d sure like to meet the woman that raised Bucky and you.”_

_“Oh, don’t you worry.  I was definitely serious.  And she can’t wait to meet you, and Wanda.  Even though Bucky had yet to get an official yes from her for a date, Mom knew about her.  And she heard the tone in Bucky’s voice when he mentioned her.”_

_Steve looked at Natasha and gave her a wink out of the side of his eye, “She said she could hear the same thing when she listened to Bucky talk about Wanda that she did when she heard me talk about you to her.  That she can’t wait to meet the women that finally captured her sons’ hearts.”_

_Natasha was going to start sweating from the warmth inside her own heart right now, “Well, she sounds like an incredible woman.  If only she would have raised you to share secrets…like where you’re taking me!”_

_Steve laughed, because right on cue, they were arriving, “Aww, Nat.  You can stop now, because we’re here.”_

_The sun was setting as he turned the car off the highway, and onto a county road.  Soon after, Steve stole another look at Natasha and grinned as he saw a huge smile forming on her face.  The car wound around the curves forming on the road as a beautiful body of dark blue water came into view.  Hues of red and orange colors reflected off of the lake and onto their sunglasses._

_“Steve.”  She sounded like she was in awe of the site._

_He looked over at her for a second as her smile grew even wider.  Natasha reached for his hand and held onto it over the console, “Steve, this is so beautiful,” she said, staring out the windshield._

_“Yes, it is,” Steve answered as he approached a stop light entering the town.  He wasn’t staring at the lake though.  He brought their hands up to his lips and kissed the back of hers as he took a few seconds while they were stopped, to finally look at her.  The gaze behind their sunglasses was powerful enough to penetrate through the tinted lenses and make Natasha blush.  She knew he was talking about her and not the lake._

_They drove for another mile as they curved around the shimmering water to their left, until they reached the sign at the edge of the town, ‘Welcome to Lakeside: Population, 10,000.’_

_The water continued on their left when a trail emerged, full of people walking, running, and biking under towering trees.  On the right, Natasha and Steve saw a strip of lake themed bars and restaurants.  “Royal Port, Water’s Edge, Dock’s End, The Warf, The Lifeboat, Tequila Sunrise, Shipwrecked…wow, are we going on a bar crawl, Rogers?”  Natasha asked amusingly while reading off the multiple business names._

_“Only if you’re trying to get me drunk and take advantage of me, Romanoff.”_

_Still not letting her hand go from before, Steve added, “First, we have to check in, then we can freshen up a bit before we go and meet your brother.  Now that you know where we are, you can text him to figure out a time and where to meet.”_

_Another quarter of a mile, and they turned on a private drive to the right and read a sign, ‘Guests Only.’  The car curved up a hill, on a winding path that was covered in similar, beautiful trees they had just seen on the lake trail.  Natasha kept leaning toward the windshield, trying to see what was coming into their view a little sooner._

_Steve laughed, “You just can’t help yourself can you, Nat?  You’re going to strain your neck.  I promise, we’re almost there.”_

_Natasha rolled her eyes, but grinned and laid her head back against the seat.  Steve released her hand and moved it to the back of her neck, rubbing circles on her soft skin.  He was amused by her need to know something…anything she could before they actually arrived._

_Pretty soon she moved away from his hand again out of anticipation, “Oh wow, I think I can see it!”_

_Another sign came into view, ‘Lake Point Villa,’ as a three-story hotel waited for them at the end of the drive._

_The private hotel spanned wide and looked like a luxurious cabin.  Dark wood and stone made up the outside walls and main entrance as they pulled their car up.  The sun was still setting, and the Villa appeared to glow while they got out of the car and gave their keys to the Valet.  They each only had one bag, but the Bellhop insisted he take them._

_“Let’s just soak up every minute of relaxation we can here, Natasha,” Steve said as he leaned over and kissed her cheek.  They followed the Bellhop into the grand foyer, overlooking the large lobby before them.  As they entered, Natasha looked up, took off her sunglasses, and reached down to squeeze Steve’s hand._

_The room was stunning.  So much so, that Steve actually stopped looking at Natasha to take off his own glasses and take it all in too._

_The space was romantically lit with a roaring fireplace.  The three-story ceiling was accented with exposed dark, wooden beams, and the floor was a cream-colored marble.  When they looked up, they noticed five, wrought iron chandeliers that each had hundreds of small, glass globes hanging down with a candlelight bulb in each of them._

_The fireplace was in the center of the lobby where several patrons sat, enjoying their surroundings.  A waterfall was in front of the fire, causing the already flickering light to glimmer more._

_The smell of firewood and cinnamon and earth lingered in the air as a hotel employee played on a grand piano in the corner._

_Steve tugged at their hands as they approached the check-in desk.  Natasha kept looking behind her to listen to the music and look at everything around them, not really believing where she was at.  A minute later, Steve finished checking in, “Come on Dorothy, we’re not in Kansas anymore.”_

_Natasha smirked at him, “Only you would reference a movie from the 1930’s, Rogers.”  But Natasha couldn’t help it.  The overwhelming beauty of the lodge melted away any more of her jokes in the moment.  “Steve, I can’t believe how beautiful this place is.  It must have been really expensive.”_

_Steve shook his head as he pulled her along, “Worth every Penny.  Come on, our bags should be up in our room by the time we get there.”_

_After riding the elevator to the top floor, they arrived at the door to their room.  Natasha noticed there wasn’t a number on it.  It just read, ‘LVS.’  Steve saw her curiosity spike again and said, “Lake Villa Suite.”_

_“Suite?” she asked._

_Natasha’s eyes opened wide, yet again, as she entered the large suite.  A grand room awaited them that had to be over 1500 square feet with a 20-foot ceiling, by her estimation.  It had its own kitchen and dining area stocked with food and drink, a bathroom with a large shower and jacuzzi tub, and a living room with a fireplace, large TV, surround stereo, sofa, and chairs.  The king size bed had a small chandelier hanging over it, matching the style in the foyer.  The ceiling beams and rustic colors of the furniture, rugs, and bedding also mirrored the lobby._

_They walked toward the last part of the room._

_They opened French Doors to a two-level deck, overlooking the lake.  The first level had a personal bar and grill, with patio seating.  They went down two stairs to the lower deck to find a hot tub.  The deck was positioned so that when you looked over the railing, you only saw the trees on the grounds and the lake beyond._

_The view made them feel alone in their own world, without another soul in site.  Steve looked back toward the suite, then out toward the lake, and then he looked to Natasha.  As the sun was finally gone from the horizon, fairy lights turned on in the trees overhead._

_Natasha looked up at Steve as he said, “Where else am I gonna get a view like this?”_

_Natasha was absolutely in dumbstruck.  Her face was going to start hurting from the perma-smile that had formed ever since pulling into the town.  Steve, this wonderful and patient, and kind, and understanding man had come into her life and believed in her.  He had helped her open up to not only him, but to the idea of friendship with others.  He helped her believe in the wishful thinking that someday, she could have what others construe as a ‘normal life.’_

_Natasha looked at everything around her.  She felt almost breathless, thinking of how much thought and effort and money he probably put into this weekend, and then she found his eyes again._

_All she could muster out was a shaky, “Thank you,” as her eyes welled up.  She knew what she was feeling inside of herself at that moment…she knew it was so much deeper than either one of them have expressed so far in their relationship._

_Natasha didn’t let another second pass before she found his mouth with hers, needing to feel closer to him in this moment.  Her fingers ran along the base of his neck, playing with the ends of his hair as Steve’s hand held the small of her back._

_The kiss quickly deepened as Natasha hummed against him, needed more.  Her tongue skated along the seam of his lips as an airy breath escaped the back of his throat._

_Her fingers dug into his bicep as Steve’s other hand found a sliver of bare skin under the hem of her T-shirt as he splayed his fingers along her waist underneath._

_Steve and Natasha hadn’t blatantly said that this was the weekend they were going to finally be together, in those exact words.  But they both knew it was going to happen, and had both been looking forward to it ever since the night in the alley.  And if they went back even further, they honestly had both been thinking about each other in that way…ever since they first ran into each other._

_Movements became quicker.  Kisses became needier.  Breathing became harder._

_She arched her back, kneading his neck, nudging her hips against his.  A quiet hiss escaped her lips as their tongues finally met, feeling the wetness between them._

_Steve felt her press harder against him, causing his breathing to turn into a low groan.  His tongue scraped the roof of her mouth, needing to be deeper in her, invading her somehow and sucking out another gasp from her throat.  Moving his fingers down her back, past the dip of her spine, to the firm swell of her behind, his hold tightened on her as he pushed back almost involuntarily, against her hips with his own._

_If they didn’t stop this now, there would be no meeting Clint.  There would be no leaving their room for the entire evening._

_But Steve wanted to meet Clint.  And Natasha had already set it up, so there was no way she would back out on him.  They both seemed to come to this realization as Steve stopped her hips from moving and pulled away from her mouth for a second._

_Natasha could feel the start of a little sweat on Steve’s neck as they were coming down from their heavy breathing. He shook his head, not in disbelief, but almost expectation.  He let out a laugh to relieve some of the tension as she lowered her head against his chest._

_Pulling them out of the moment with one quick move, Steve smacked both of his hands lightly against her ass as she yelped in surprise.  She looked up to him as he winked at her, “Come on, Nat.  Let’s get ready to meet your brother.  Then we’ll have the rest of the weekend to each other.”_

_He was really going to have to stop with the natural charm.  Okay, he wasn’t, but his goddamn winking was not helping her calm down right now._

_Natasha smirked back at him, and she smacked his chest lightly, “What will we ever do with our time all weekend, Soldier?”_

_They both started laughing, easing the intensity of the moment.  It was ridiculous when they thought about it.  How in moments like these, their passion and desire for one another seemed to circumvent any of their normal thought processes._

_If it was this good so far between them, how impossibly good could it be when they finally did cross that line to be together?_

* * *

_They spent the next 30 minutes getting ready for the evening.  The need and longing from before was replaced by a nervous feeling in the air of their room._

_The two most important people in Natasha’s life were going to meet.  She pleaded to Clint over her texts to please be nice and told him Steve was important to her.  She also warned Steve that Clint was more serious, less trusting, and had a temper.  Natasha wanted the meeting to go well, but as the time to leave approached, she felt her stomach start to tighten.  But she finished in the bathroom and tried to convince herself everything would go well._

_Steve sat in one of the chairs in the living area, sketching a few quick drawings as he waited for Natasha to finish up.  When he saw her exit the bathroom, his hand stilled.  She had on a sleeveless, flowing blouse that was dark green and reached the top of her thighs.  A gold necklace trailed down into her exposed skin.  She wore black leggings and heels that Steve recognized from their last night out, when she had last seen Clint._

_She grabbed her black leather jacket to wear over the blouse and ran her hands through her hair one more time._

_Her nerves about Clint were replaced by butterflies when she saw Steve looking at her.  He wore dark jeans, a navy oxford shirt, and a dark grey jacket.  Natasha could see his army chain through his open collar as she stepped forward and said, “You clean up pretty good, Rogers.  I hope I look okay for the evening.”_

_“Nat.  I could fill a book with words, describing how you look right now.  ‘Okay’ would not be one of them.  You look incredible.”  Natasha felt warm from the drag of his voice and the pull of attraction between them._

_The tension broke when she received a text from Clint.  He told her he’d be at a bar they’d seen on their way into town called ‘Shipwrecked,’ in 20 minutes._

_“We better get going,” Natasha said, anxiously.  Steve nodded, but he stepped closer to her, “Sounds good, but first I need to do something.”_

_He grabbed her hands, pulled her to his chest, as he wrapped his arms around her and found her lips, giving her a deep kiss.  It lasted for a few seconds before he pulled away, leaving her in a daze.  Her anxiety was momentarily erased as she came down from the whirl of movement.  Natasha touched her mouth as he whispered in her ear, “I wanted to give you a preview of how I plan on filling that time we have later.”_

_Grabbing her hand, he smiled at her flushed appearance on her cheeks as they walked out the door._

* * *

**_2 years ago –_ ** _Cabin_

_“Steve…Steve, wake up, Soldier.”_

_Steve rolled over at the sound of her voice as he felt her arms around his bare chest, rubbing her fingers along his skin.  The sun was beaming in through the windows as he looked at her.  A vision of pale skin, in crisp white sheets, as her red hair colored the pillow she laid on, “Well, I certainly slept well after you had your way with me last night,” she added._

_Steve became more alert and grinned as he lifted the sheet to bury both of them underneath, “I plan to continue to have my way with you right now, Romanoff.”_

_It was bliss.  It was pure desire.  It was everything they had at one time.  And it felt wrong._

_The image of Steve and Natasha on the bed were when they were younger.  Steve was without a beard, and it was long before she left.  They were in his first apartment in New York, after Quantico, that he shared with Bucky and Sam._

_Steve soon realized he was dreaming._

_The dream version of himself, beard and all, watched the passionate scene unfold from the corner of the room, in the shadows.  This was a frequent dream of his, with his present self being forced to watch his past memories with Natasha.  They bordered on nightmares at times, and they had haunted him ever since Natasha left._

_Soon though, the picture before him of the couple in love disappeared._

_And all of a sudden, he was now watching from the kitchen of his, Bucky, and Sam’s apartment as the three men, along with Maria, Wanda, and Natasha were all in the living room…playing twister.  Laughter filled the air.  The coffee table was pushed to the side, and was full of empty beer bottles and pizza boxes._

_“Romanoff, Bucky…no cheating this time,” Sam’s voice rung through the air.  They both yelled back at Sam as he moved the spinner again, “We don’t cheat!”_

_“Oh please.  You two are horrible with games.  You have no morals, either one of you when it comes to fair play, game night, and anyone in this room,” Maria chimed in as she walked right through Steve’s present version of himself, bringing another six beers to the living room._

_“Right hand, red,” Sam yelled.  “Come on, Maximoff, let’s show them what we got.  We’re not going to let them trip us up this time,” Steve said to Wanda as she smiled at her friend, “You got it, Steve.”_

_Bucky laughed at his brother, “Oh please, Steve.  You’ve been tripping over Romanoff…”  And as if the story and words had been said a thousand times among the people in the room, Wanda, Bucky, Sam, and Maria all said at once, “Ever since you two first ran into each other.”_

_They all began laughing again and Natasha found Steve’s eyes on her, as she was all twisted and bent awkwardly as her hand reached for a red circle.  She grinned at him and couldn’t help herself as her left foot inched over to his hand that was right next to it.  She started moving her toes along the backside of his wrist, tickling him, and driving him crazy all at once.  She was cheating, and they both knew it._

_Instead of letting her win, Steve moved his wrist all together and wrapped his hand around her ankle on that same foot and yanked her a little.  She laughed as she felt herself start to topple over, right into Bucky’s shoulder, who fell onto Wanda’s arm, who collapsed onto Steve’s back._

_“Children, all of you,” came out of Wanda’s mouth as they all buckled, falling on the mat together.  All six of them in the room burst out into a fit of laughter so strong that it forced tears from their eyes._

_The vision was gone in a blink of an eye._

_Now Steve sat outside of Stark’s Condo for one of his summer grill outs as all 11 team members, along with Fury, were enjoying food and music and all different kinds of alcohol._

_Tony yelled over the music, “Raise your glasses and enjoy all the expensive food and alcohol you can, on me…because here is to three years with the best damn team the FBI has ever seen.”_

_A round of cheers and joyful yells met Stark’s toast as Fury waved and saw himself out.  “Fury’s not staying?” Rhodey asked.  “Are you kidding, I can’t believe he even showed in the first place…I guess he does really like us, even though he has a funny way of showing it,” Tony answered._

_“He doesn’t like fraternizing with us in a social setting.  Wants to keep professional boundaries intact and all.  So, him showing up here was a big deal.” Bruce said._

_Tony grinned, “Maybe next time we can convince him to get drunk…imagine the stories that man has.”_

_Loki and Thor grinned at each other, “More alcohol for us then!” they said in unison.  Everyone laughed and enjoyed the company of their friends…their family.  “Hey Bruce, you ever going to get the nerve to ask out that pretty lady from the University you know?  What’s her name…Bridget?”_

_Bruce shook his head at his friend but smiled, “Tony, you know her name is Betty.  Right now we’re just friends.  How about I take the plunge and get some courage, when you finally sac up and ask out Pepper?”_

_Bruce didn’t talk smack often, so hearing it from him had everyone cheering and giving Tony a hard time._

_Tony, looking to get the subject off of his crush, (a certain strawberry blonde assistant at his father’s company), found the easiest target, “So, the real-life version of ‘Friends’ is finally splitting up.  I can’t believe you guys are all getting your own places.  I mean, I’m sure Sam and Bucky will be happy that Steve and Red over there are finally going to have their own walls, not keeping everyone awake when they’re knocking boots anymore.”_

_“Tony.”  Steve started._

_“Aww, Rogers.  Lighten up.  I’m happy for you.  Really – I look forward to you and Red supplying the beer and food at **your** house warming party in your new apartment next month…But, anyway.  Back to what I was saying.  You two moving?  Sure.  There’s no surprise there.  I’m actually surprised you didn’t move in together right after Quantico.  But, Wanda…are you sure you know what you’re doing?  I mean, moving in with Bucky…I can’t even imagine the unruly mess he leaves behind.”_

_Wanda laughed, “Oh Tony, I think you underestimate us and the mess we can both make.”_

_She must be feeling tipsy, because Wanda hardly ever said anything scandalous in front of the group.  Even Bucky stopped drinking to look at her in surprise.  She was feeling alive and warm and happy tonight though, just like everyone else.  And yes, she was a little drunk, “What James, I’m only speaking the truth.”  Her words were met with more cheers and razzing from their friends as Bucky gave her a quick kiss and whispered, “Love ya, Darling.”_

_“So, if you were the FBI’s version of ‘Friends,’ the real question is…who was Ross and Rachel, and who was Monica and Chandler?” Rhodey asked._

_Everyone started weighing in.  Thor said, “Well, Steve and Natasha certainly had us all inquiring with their ‘will they, won’t they’ at the beginning of our days at Quantico.”_

_Loki added, “And god knows, we’ve all caught them in compromising positions over the years, like Ross and Rachel in the museum.”_

_Maria chimed in, “Yeah, I’d say that’s true, which would make me the Phoebe and Sam over there the Joey.”  Maria winked at Sam.  And Wanda then grinned at Natasha._

_Maria and Sam had been flirting for a long time, but hadn’t taken any steps forward yet, even after three plus years of knowing each other.  Wanda and Natasha hoped that maybe they’d finally try to see if something more was there, now that they were getting their own places._

_Sam said, “That leaves Maximoff and Barnes as our resident Monica and Chandler…which means they’ll be getting married first.”_

_Everyone laughed again as a bunch of jokes about more free booze and food at the ‘Maximoff-Barnes Wedding’ were made.  Wanda and Bucky were laughing along, but Steve leaned over to Natasha and hid the fact that he had just licked her ear and whispered, “Ross and Rachel got nothing on us, Nat…Can’t wait to christen our new home next week.”_

_She blushed and started running her hand up his thigh as he gulped down a big drink of his beer.  Tony caught their interaction and yelled, “Red.  Rogers.  I refuse to witness anymore hanky panky between you two.  You’re finally going to have your own home together, so can you **please** keep your hands off of each other, for tonight?”_

_His joke was again met with alcohol induced laughter as the tight knit group partied, well into the late hours of the evening.  The memory was so provocative and intoxicating, that even Steve, in his present and dream version, found himself lost in the moment of happiness as he watched the flashback of him and his FBI family.  It was for just a moment though, because right as he felt the swelling of his heart, the memory evaporated._

_Steve’s travels through his memories quickened now._

_He and Natasha on a run, in Central Park.  Both of them sparring at HQ in the work out room and training at the shooting range.  Them making love as they painted their new apartment after they had argued over a color.  Wanda and Bucky out for a double date with them.  All of them together countless times at their favorite local pub, and at Stark’s condo again, and at Steve and Natasha’s, **and** at Bucky and Wanda’s._

_And then the memories flashed rapidly, almost like he was on a merry-go-round, and his life with Natasha encompassed everything around it, as he spun in circles._

_Sarah over for Sunday dinner’s with the four of them, rotating between the brother’s apartments.  Sarah talking with Natasha in their own little world as she looked at his mother with the same love and affection, he had for her.  Sarah, meeting Clint, and even making him smile.  Clint, over at their apartment, looking…content with both of them and happy to be around his sister again.  Christmas, New Years, Thanksgiving, 4 th of July, and every other holiday spent with their loved ones.  _

_Vacations to the West Coast, Vegas, The Grand Canyon, and New Orleans.  Long weekends camping, and travelling back to the Lake Point Villa, revisiting their first weekend there.  Late nights at the office working on a case, earlier mornings at the office as they headed off on a mission.  Kisses in the shower, cuddles in their bed, taking dancing lessons together.  Steve sketching Natasha endlessly.  Natasha cooking Russian cuisine for Steve._

_Fighting about Steve forgetting to pick up coffee.  Fighting about Natasha taking too many risks in the field.  Arguing over stupid things with as much passion as they could muster, because that was who they were.  Images of them as they made love, had sex, and fucked all over their apartment.  Steve taking care of Natasha when she was sick.  Natasha helping Steve out with a shoulder injury.  All of them being there for Wanda, when she found out her brother had died from an overdose._

_It was their life, spinning around in his dream, and it was beautiful.  It was mesmerizing.  And Steve could lose himself in these images and scenes because that is the way it was supposed to be.  That’s the way it was.  They were the best years of his life…only to be followed by the worst.  And the beauty of all the images suddenly felt like acid as they burned every part of his dream self._

_As evocative as this always was, the crash was more than painful.  It was excruciating, because it reminded him all over again of what he had lost.  What they had all lost._

_Suddenly everything stilled._

_He knew the scene he was watching unfold now, well._

_“Romanoff, answer me…Damn it.”  Steve was crouched in his position in the abandoned warehouse.  Stark was at his back, covering the front entrance.  Rhodey was in the rafters with Sam covering the air.  Thor and Hill had the perimeter._

_“Steve, her GPS is active, but her comms are down,” Wanda voiced over to him.  “I’m showing three heat signatures in the building, Steve,” Bruce added._

_They had taken out most of the hostiles at the compound, but two escaped during the raid and had entered into this warehouse.  Natasha ran off after them after Steve told her to hold her position.  Bucky ran after her at Steve’s command, so Rogers could direct his team and cover the entire ground.  Everyone fell into place._

_“Cap, my three-o-clock…I got one,” Sam said softly into his comms to Steve.  “I copy, Wilson.  I’ll draw him out with fire.” Rhodey answered._

_Steve whispered to Tony over his shoulder, “Stark, I want you on him as Rhodey draws him toward us.  Just make sure you get him toward the front door.  Thor and Hill will be waiting for him.”_

_“Roger, Rogers.”  Stark added._

_The movement was fluid, and the criminal was apprehended by Stark within 60 seconds.  Tony escorted him to the entrance where Maria took him.  The team worked seamlessly together.  One of the escaped culprits was down.  One to go.  Still no word from Romanoff or Barnes though._

_“Steve.  We got a problem.”  Steve’s body froze at the sound of his brother’s voice over comms.  “Buck, what’s your location?  Do you have eyes on Romanoff?”_

_“Yeah, that’s the problem, Cap.  I’m not the only one.  This last fucker who got away has her square in his sites.  Red dot is on her chest as we speak.  And he saw me.  I just put my gun down to calm him down.”_

_Breathe.  Steve followed the pattern of his breathing to keep calm.  They’ve been in countless sticky situations, but it still didn’t make it any easier._

_“You need us to send in some air support, from the chopper on hold, for a distraction, Rogers?”  Loki voiced over from the lab with Bruce and Wanda.  Steve thought through the scenario._

_“No.  Good thinking, Loki.  But it’s too risky.  He might get trigger happy at the sound of a jump.  Buck – operation hide-and-seek, okay?”_

_Everyone heard the plan over the comms link in their ears, except Natasha because hers was damaged in her fight with the criminal, who now held her at gunpoint.  Operation hide-and-seek.  Meaning, they make the criminal think they were leaving.  He didn’t know how many of them were in the building.  He would see them pulling away, giving him a false sense of relief._

_Stark would stay back with Rogers to sneak up on Barnes, Romanoff, and the perp._

_Everyone exited, acting like the mission was a success._

_Bucky gave the code to Steve, showing that the plan was in motion and that the criminal saw the exiting FBI agents out the corner of the window he was near.  “Olly, Olly Oxen Free, Cap,” Bucky whispered, telling Stark and Steve to move._

_“We got this, Rogers,” Tony hushed at Steve’s back as they moved in sync towards Bucky and Natasha’s location._

_They moved another 100 feet, and they found themselves at in the back of building, off to a side room with Bucky, Natasha, and the perp in site.  Steve wanted to run and attack the shithead who had a gun on his girlfriend.  But he didn’t.  He focused._

_Natasha saw Steve first.  Relief, then fear, then love washed over her face.  Steve nodded to Tony as he ran into the room, opposite of Romanoff’s position, distracting the criminal and making him turn so the gun was off Natasha.  Then Steve and Bucky both charged at him as Natasha lunged and hit him, straight in his dick with her boot, and then dropped down to the floor to kick his legs out from under him with her feet._

_She picked her gun up, wiped the sweat off of her forehead and started moving towards Steve and Bucky, but the criminal recovered, quicker than he should have.  He was sitting up and was going to shoot Steve._

_“No!” Natasha shouted, but a shot rang out._

_The perp collapsed to the floor as Bucky and Steve were splattered with his blood.  Tony had hit him with a single shot from behind, “I told you.  We got this, Rogers…Glad you’re okay, Red.  Glad you’re…not dead, Barnes.”  Tony smirked at them and went to exit the building._

_Bucky and Steve gave a quick hug to each other, patting the other one down and then gave a huge sigh of relief as Bucky started talking to Wanda over comms, promising he was okay._

_“Goddamnit, Romanoff.  I didn’t tell the team to move in yet, and you ran after that piece of shit on the ground.”  Steve was frantic, finally letting the panic set in of what could’ve happened with that little red dot on Natasha’s chest a few minutes ago._

_“Rogers.  My comms were down before I came in.  I didn’t hear you, when I went after him...I’m sorry.”_

_“I can’t believe you, Romanoff…Wait, what did you say?”_

_This was an old, tired argument at this point, years into their relationship.  Natasha or Steve taking on too much at times.  Natasha bucking back against Steve’s command.  This time may have been an actual mistake, but it wasn’t the first time she’d taken on an un-needed risk.  And they hardly every apologized to each other without a fight first, especially in scary moments like this.  So, the fact that she did apologize, caught Steve off guard.  And it indicated how shaken, both of them actually were by the close call._

_“What, are your comms down now, too?  I said, I’m sorry, Rogers.  Now can you please quit calling me, Romanoff?” Natasha stood with her arms crossed, looking defiantly at him.  She apologized, but she wasn’t going to run to him.  She would make him meet her at least half way._

_Steve slung his rifle over his back and did in fact run to her._

_He moved his hands over her face, and then over her shoulders, and arms, and chest, and legs, making sure she was in one piece.  Making sure she was unharmed.  Steve peppered her with desperate kisses and ran his hands through her ponytail, messing her up more than the frazzled state she was already in,_

_“Nat, god that scared me.  You can’t do that.  I can’t…I can’t have anything happen to you.  Do you understand?”_

_“Steve.”_

_But his hands wouldn’t stop.  His kisses wouldn’t stop.  “Steve, listen to me.  I’m okay.”  Natasha whispered against his mouth as she found his hands finally, and stilled their movements.  She laced her fingers in his, holding them between their chests as she looked up at him, “I’m okay.  I’m sorry.  And I understand.  I can’t have anything happen to you either.  I love you, Soldier.”_

_“I love you too, Nat.  I love you so fucking much.” Steve whispered as he found her lips again, feeling the sign of her being alive - her breathing – relieve him with each passing second._

_As he pulled her into his embrace, both of them clinging to each other for another second, Steve knew.  He’d been thinking about it well over a year…much longer than that, if he was really honest.  But he knew in that moment, that he was going to ask Natasha to marry him soon._

_The dream version of himself was falling now, away from the scene._

_Steve stretched to try and keep looking at himself and Natasha from five years ago.  He arched his neck as far as he could, but he kept falling into darkness until he finally couldn’t see Natasha anymore._

_There was no intoxication from that memory.  It was painful to remember almost losing her, but Steve knew this was a dream.  He knew every time he woke up from this nightmare, that none of the joy and happiness he’d had with her would be waiting for him.  And it was unbearable, so the darkness around him was only fitting._

* * *

_And then Steve flinched, jerking awake in the bed, in the loft.  He was in the cabin and no longer in his dreams._

_Steve was covered in sweat and felt cold, remembering every haunting image from his nightmare.  Steve opened his eyes and looked at the ceiling.  Yes, he was in the loft._

_And Natasha was in his arms.  He’d found her.  This wasn’t like every other time he’d woken up, from some variation of that torture trip down memory lane, in his sleep.  She was in his arms right now.  They’d fallen asleep fully clothed with Steve right beside her, holding on tight._

_It wasn’t quite dawn yet.  He glanced at a clock radio on the end table on Natasha’s side of the bed– 4:36 am.  He blinked a couple of times, trying to make sure this wasn’t another dream…another nightmare._

_Natasha’s head was resting on a pillow.  He gave her waist a light squeeze and breathed a sigh of relief.  Last night, and now this morning, were very real.  The images of the previous evening flashed through his head.  He swallowed as the scene of him and Natasha being naked, making love on the table downstairs, replayed in his mind._

_Steve stared at her neck, inhaled the scent of her hair, and thought, ‘What the hell are you thinking, Rogers?’_

_And just like that, the pendulum of his emotions swung.  It always did when it came to her.  Now, thinking of the past five years of memories was imminent.  They would soon overshadow the profound and unstoppable passion from last night - right along with every other memory he just dreamt of._

_But for now, he started to think of each of those memories again.  All of the sounds, the laughter, the tears…the contact of skin.  He just couldn’t stop the ‘Greatest Hits of Steve and Natasha, Album: Five Years of Bliss,’ from replaying over and over and over._

_As a little light made its way in the windows downstairs, a soft illumination began to creep into the loft.  It brought him back to reality again._

_And the very painful reality he was living in right now, drug him away from those cherished memories._

_This was a familiar pattern for Steve.  His brain and heart would be tugged in opposite directions.  His brain would remember all of the bad memories from the last five years.  He would logically tell himself all the ways he should be feeling and all the things he should be doing._

_His heart though…his heart would flood his senses with everything else, and there was no stopping it.  Her touch, her voice, her smell…her taste…they haunted his memory, and he knew this current tryst would only further the longing and deepen his craving and need._

_Steve wasn’t kidding when he told her last night – she was like a drug to him.  He came to that realization and stopped being in denial about it two years ago when he tracked her down in Russia.  And this was his latest fix, so he was going to ride this high as long as he possibly could._

_There was a big difference between Russia and now though._

_Steve wasn’t even trying to fool himself into saying he was going to arrest her like he did two years ago in Russia.  He came running to the cabin as soon as he was sure HackerJacker was Natasha.  He knew what would happen - they both did.  He also knew what the approaching hours of today would bring – more pain, more tears, more anguish, and he came anyway – without a second of hesitation._

_Steve could almost map out their day - they’ll fight, no solution will be found, no answers that satisfy will be given, and no acceptance will be granted for either person’s stance._

_Steve couldn’t help but think of a comparison Natasha and he had come up with a long time ago in a fight.  When they were good, they were perfect.  Like the Yin and Yang symbol, they completed one another to make each person whole and only the two of them fit together.  When they had their bad moments though, they were like gasoline and fire, causing an explosion of emotions.  They were always able to navigate the bad moments though, through their love…until five years ago._

_Trying to hold off the downpour of emotions as long as he possibly could, because he absolutely was a masochist for his own pain with regards to Natasha, Steve took a deep breath and tried to just focus on the present for the moment._

_He just wanted to revel in having her in his arms – for as long as he could._

_They had barely moved at all since they had fallen asleep in a comfortable and old position of theirs.  They found themselves wrapped in each other’s arms several hours ago.  He wanted to reach down and kiss her neck.  It was only a couple of inches away, but something was holding him back.  He wanted to soak in her stillness and hold and protect her, for as long as he could, so he could lock this memory in his brain forever._

_He would definitely sketch this image of her.  Maybe this would be on their greatest hits album too, adding to the vault of memories that already haunted him._

_He felt her stir a little inside of his hold on her waist while his body pressed up against her.  This was really happening – she was really here with him.  His fingers grazed the bare skin of her stomach just beneath her shirt.  As impossible as it was, he held her a little tighter and finally gave in, pressing his lips to her neck, just below her hairline._

_The draw between them had always been magnetic, but with the absence in each other’s lives, the pull was now overwhelming.  Natasha’s hands involuntarily squeezed around his waist as her feet intertwined with his.  She wasn’t awake yet.  But being with her so many nights and mornings in his life, he knew from her body’s movements, she soon would be._

_And oh, how well he knew her, because before he knew it, Natasha was turning._

_While she was still completely pressed up against him, she was now lying on her stomach, and had accidentally shoved the blankets and sheets down with her feet, so they were resting on her waist and jeans.  He looked over at the clock again – 5:30 am.  He had held her in his solitude, lying awake for almost an hour._

_Steve could barely see her figure as the peak of morning crept into the loft.  He heard the distant roll of thunder though and wondered if they were in for a storm in the area._

_He smiled as his hand was still on her back, just underneath her shirt.  He moved to grab the blankets to cover them up for a little longer.  But Steve paused when he looked at where his hand just was on her back, as he said under his breath, “What the hell?”_

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. Parts of this chapter were so fun to write. Parts of it were really painful. And another part was both – aka…Steve’s dream – honestly, I loved loved loved writing that part of the story, but it hurt.
> 
> PS. I know the present day timeline didn't include Steve driving this time. Next Ch. it will. It was kind of purposeful with how it fits next chapter. That's probably as close to a spoiler as you'll get from me!
> 
> Your continued support and encouragement just mean so much to me as we keep trucking along.
> 
> I love hearing from readers, so let me know your thoughts or come follow me on Tumblr @eightieskat if you'd like to chat about anything with the story, Marvel, or anything else. Have a great day :)
> 
> Cheers!~~Kat
> 
>  
> 
> Have a great day everyone! - Kat.


	13. Oh Brother Where Art Thou?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of reveals in this one. Lots of moments. And a few cameos. How’s that for a tease?
> 
> PS. There’s a quick note at the end of the chapter and I updated the timeline image with a few things you’ve learned in the last several chapters, so it’s at the bottom of this chapter. The updates have red text. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy the chapter and image board below!

Memories & Reality

I do not own any of this or any part of Marvel or the MCU

_Chapter 13 - Oh Brother Where Art Thou?_

* * *

**Present Day –** FBI HQ

Choices and Consequences.

Loki had just finished skewering the team for all of their choices and the consequences that had resulted from those actions since they’ve all known each other.  

Wanda looked around the room at everyone.  She found her husband’s eyes and tried to pull him from his vacant expression.  And then she looked at her boss.  Wanda didn’t agree with Loki being kicked out of the FBI back then, but seven years of his horrible decision making had washed away almost any sympathy she had felt for him  _before_  today.

Almost. 

But she thought about his words more - choices and consequences. 

Hearing him speak of his mother and Natasha, one thing became clear to her.  Loki was a broken man, hiding behind hate and anger and blame.  But he was a man who loved his mother,  _and_  everyone in this room, and Natasha…even though he had the worst way of showing it.  He was a man who made a monumental mistake at a crucial point in his life and career. 

But Wanda understood why he hacked the NSA, even if she didn’t agree with it.  He should have followed Fury’s trust exercise from long ago, and come to them, trusting his team.  Maybe together, they could’ve figured out a way to protect his mother, and protect him.  She knew that she was simplifying matters in her head.  And she knew Steve should’ve come to his family too. 

If only.  Should have.  Could have.  Would have.

All very dangerous words to be thinking when you’re dealing with matters of consequences and choices.  When dealing with matters of the heart and regret.  Those words have haunted Steve since Natasha left, and those words are eating away at Bucky right now.

After hearing Loki speak, Wanda could  _almost_  understand his choices after his mother’s suicide.  She thought back to wanting to find Loki after she’d heard about his mother’s death.  But she couldn’t because Loki, like Natasha was a very gifted individual.  And his gifts allowed him to be very successful at hiding.  At that time in his life, he was so consumed by hatred and anger, that he wanted nothing to do with anyone in this room, including Wanda.

It was all too much, too fast for all of them.  Loki was gone.  Natasha ran off after she betrayed them, and Steve was a shell of a man, filled with anger and resentment towards her.  And slowly, as Loki said, the team split.  Her friends left, and got distracted by everyday life.  They lost touch day by day.  So much, that when Bucky and Wanda’s wedding day rolled around five years ago, it was a miracle that everyone from their original team was there, except for Loki and Natasha. 

That was the last time they were all together…until today.

God, this whole situation was so fucked up, that it was hard for anyone to wrap their mind around what’s unfolded, only since this morning.  Silent thoughts, consumed by choices and consequences, ran through everyone’s mind. 

A minute passed before Wanda spoke, “Loki, you’re right.” 

Fury might have been pissed at her for where she was going with this, but she needed to say it. 

Loki looked at his old friend as Wanda found Bucky’s hand and held it tight for strength, “I don’t mean I agree with your crimes, because of course I don’t.  I will always think you could have dealt with everything differently.  But, you’re right…about not getting a second chance with the FBI.  You made a mistake when you hacked into the NSA, but you did it out of desperation and love for your mother.  I thought that back then, and I never told you that because I was young, and stupid with naivety.  I don’t know if it would have made a difference…probably not.  But it might have made a difference in your heart to hear it from me.  And for that, I’m sorry.  I really am.” 

Fury spoke over her, “Maximoff, this isn’t your fault.  Loki, I will admit I didn’t fight as hard back then, as what I would now.  But you didn’t come to us in the first place, either.  And you didn’t even hesitate to jump into illegal activities that made you feel good after your mother died.  In fact, because you dove so quickly into a life of crime, it only tells me you didn’t fight for yourself either.  You need to think about that.”

There wasn’t an angry come back or sarcastic sneer.  Just as Loki’s words had a harsh truth to them, so did Wanda and Fury’s.  His efforts to call everyone in the room out on their choices, exposed the reality of his own life, causing him to get lost in his thoughts at the moment.

Fury continued, focusing on the rest of the group since Loki had gone silent, “We have bigger things to talk about.  You say you would  _never_  hurt Natasha.  If there is any ounce of truth to that…you need to tell us everything.  Think about  _that_  for a minute.” 

He turned toward the side of the table that Thor, Maria, Rhodey, and Tony were on, “So, who’s starting with what they know about Romanoff, her past, and the people in it?  You better have something for me.”

Tony went first, “Never let it be said that I’m not a sharer.  This is classified information.  We all know now, Natasha and Clint came from an orphanage training camp in the USSR and then they were sent to handlers in the US to become Russian spies.  What we didn’t know until the last several years, was how intricate the spy program really was.  The support for it goes to the very top of the Russian government.  And their spies have infiltrated high levels of governments throughout the world.” 

Thor nodded his head, showing the NSA knew the same information, as Stark continued, “When I initially joined the CIA, we thought Natasha’s betrayal was isolated to a small network of people here in the US.  A cell of rogue USSR operatives, never letting go of the past, if you will.  We thought they wanted to avenge the fall of the USSR, but we were wrong.  We were very,  _very_ wrong, and it goes far beyond revenge.”

Rhodey finished the statement, “The Russian program’s name is Poseidon.”

“Poseidon?” Bruce asked. 

Maria took over, indicating Homeland was aware of this program as well.

“It’s based on Greek mythology.  Poseidon was the god of sea, and brothers to Zeus and Hades.  The Soviet training program that Natasha was born into was named after the god, years after the USSR fell – were unsure of an exact date.  But we think they named it sometime in the last five years, because the name’s prominence has increased in the chatter we’ve picked up on, over the last several years.  Branding the organization with a name is a sign of size, strength, organization, and threat level – it is  _much_ stronger than when Natasha was first born into the program.”

Loki’s broke his silence and jumped on Maria’s words, “You mean  _forced_  into.” 

Maria looked at him as Wanda agreed with him, “Loki’s right.  Natasha wasn’t born into it.  Her parents sold her and Clint like cattle, off to the slaughter.”  

Maria wasn’t going to argue semantics, even though she understood there was a big difference, “You’re right.  The program Natasha was  _forced_  into.  Anyway, the Russian program has set objectives.  It puts Russian newborns and toddlers into these camps and sends them all over the world to handlers in other countries, under the disguise of adoption, and their indoctrinated moving forward.  They call the program Poseidon because they believe it has similar goals to the god of sea.”

She listed the goals:

  * Infiltrate - water can infiltrate anywhere on the globe. Water makes up over 70% of the earth, and Poseidon is the god of it.  Russia believes they’ll eventually control the majority of the earth in a similar fashion. 
  * Secure – water secures life and a hidden world in the oceans. The spies are in hiding as they’re trained and developed.  Then, they secure intel to send back to their homeland.  All to assist Russia to become the world’s leading super power again.
  * Destroy – like we see water destroy its surroundings in mother nature. There’s no stopping it, and that’s truly how Russia sees Poseidon.  There’s no stopping it.  They’re willing to play their game as long as it takes to see Russia return the top, and they will destroy anything that gets in the way.



Fury said, “First they hide, then they attack, then they conquer.  It’s the Cold War, only this feels a hell of a lot hotter right now.”

Thor added, “The NSA has heard rumblings over the last couple of months that something big is being planned for America over the next year from Poseidon, but we don’t know anymore.  We’ve only learned of all of this in the last several months.” 

The FBI agents were on the edge of their seats, soaking in the vital information.

Stark said, “Thor and Hill are right.  The CIA  _obtained_ an asset for a while last year and extracted intel as a result.  The intel confirmed Poseidon was planning something big.”

“And by ‘ _obtain an asset’,_ you mean you illegally picked up a Russian spy in the USA and took them to a black site.  Then, you tortured them until they were almost dead, getting whatever information you could, right Tony?” Sam asked.

The room didn’t have the competitive and angry edge it did earlier in the day, but old habits die hard, and Sam has always had a problem with the enhanced interrogation techniques used by the CIA.

Stark rubbed his face and let out a loud breath in frustration.  “I’m not apologizing for fighting the war we’re in, Wilson.  They certainly aren’t playing by the rules of diplomacy.  So, back to the matter at hand…What I found since working in the CIA, is that Natasha, born  _Yelena,_ as we found out long ago, was working with them from the beginning.”

Tony reached for a file in his duffle bag, “I have spent a great deal of time, along with Rhodey, at the CIA, scouring through CCTV footage and any privatized cameras we could find, trying to piece together Natasha’s life and connection to the Russians.

Stark placed a file on the table that he pulled from his bag.  He went through several photos one-by-one, and threw them down individually for the rest of the group to see:

  * Natasha and Clint, at a very young age in a park, fighting with other kids – I’m guessing around 1992 or 1993.
  * Natasha as an early teen with blonde hair, running from a broken store window as Clint is beating up the store owner. This is around 1998, when she was probably 13.
  * Natasha, as an older teenager, holding another individual at gunpoint with Clint in the background, holding a knife to another man.
  * Natasha, in the Navy, fighting with other sailors on an overseas mission. Notice how there’s three of them against her and no one around on the ship is doing anything.  I’m guessing she held her own.
  * Natasha, seven years ago with Clint in Ukraine, about a month after she left and got away from us.
  * Natasha and Clint in the USA, five years ago.
  * Natasha, at a Russian gala, four years ago.
  * Natasha, back in the USA a little over two years ago.



“I suspect she’s been in many other locations all over the world, but these are the only proof we have.  We thought the photo from two years ago was the last one of her…until today when I found out the FBI received photos of her body,” Stark finished.

Bruce watched his team’s stunned expressions as he said, “She looks empty in the photos where you can see her face.” 

Fury said, “We’ve arrested an increasing number of Russians in the last several years but haven’t heard any of this.  How do you know about all of it?” 

Stark responded first, “Like I said, I obtained the pictures over the last several years through countless searches through footage.  The lead on the pending threat Thor talked about, that’s supposed to happen in the next year.  The majority of this information has all surfaced within the last year though, outside of the photos.  All of it has confirmed that Poseidon is smart, dangerous, and incredibly good at hiding.”

Rhodey answered, “And speaking of hiding.  We’ve never been able to get a single photo of Clint and Natasha’s handlers.  They are intelligent and conniving to say the least.”

Wanda interrupted, “The only time we’ve ever seen them, is at our graduation from Quantico.  They’re only too happy to let Clint and Natasha always be the ones in the open, always be the ones with the risk to their livelihoods – you can add extremely cowardice to intelligent and conniving.” 

Maria said, “Since everyone’s cards are on the table now…I  _also_  obtained an asset in the last six months from within Poseidon.  Our guard is definitely up because it could be a ploy.  But, the intel we’ve received from this person has checked out so far, and it’s helped our breadth of knowledge about Poseidon grow.  This could be a huge lead.”

Fury continued, “If one thing has become clear to me over the last several hours, it’s that this team still can work really well together.  That includes everyone in here.”  Fury was trying to extend the smallest of olive branches to Loki by saying  _everyone_. 

* * *

**_2 Years Ago –_ ** _Cabin_

_It was 5:30 am.  Steve was trying to soak up as many seconds of contact and peace with Natasha in his arms as he could before morning officially hit.  He moved to grab the blankets to cover them up for a little longer but paused when he looked at where his hand just was on her back as he said out loud, “What the hell?”_

_With the faint light coming in, he saw the beginning of a dark pattern on her lower back on the right side.  He moved his fingers slowly towards it.  Letting curiosity take over, he lifted her shirt slowly until he could see the top of the coloring on her skin.  Squinting his eyes so they could adjust to the dimly lit loft, he realized it was a tattoo he’d never seen before._

_When they had sex the previous night, they were in the complete dark, and then they were clothed, so he hadn’t noticed it until now.  He looked down and saw what was a fairly large tattoo.  Patterns distinct to waves of water in the ocean crossed the area horizontally.  In the middle of the waves, was a symbol that looked like a trident rising out of the water, with the patterns of fire coming off of it._

_A little more light crept in as he was able to get a better look, and his fingers involuntarily started tracing the pattern, running over her skin as if he was reading brail.  Then, the other side of her shirt shifted from his movement, uncovering more skin, and Steve noticed another tattoo – this one on the left side of her lower back._

_If he was honest, he wasn’t just curious anymore.  It was Natasha, and the last five years had given him enough reasons to know something was amiss.  A red flag was flying, as the base of his neck started to tingle.  Suspicion now took over, and for the first time since coming to this godforsaken cabin, his brain and all of its logic, was in control._

_He slowly lifted her shirt more, to see clearer.  What he found was an approximate four-inch, squared tattoo – with Russian scripted text, covering the distinct emblem of a hammer and sickle – the USSR symbol on the Soviet Flag from long ago._

_Another red flag, and that tingle now caused the hair on his neck to stand up as he became extremely attentive.  He didn’t understand exactly what he was looking at, but he **knew** that it all felt wrong inside of him. _

_He couldn’t stop now even if he tried._

_Steve traced the USSR symbol, as if he would learn more by touching it, until he felt an unevenness right above the tattoo, rising up off of her flesh.  He paused, and that tingle on his neck traveled all the way down his spine now, causing him to move closer.  A fire alarm may as well have been sounding right now – that’s how alert Steve was feeling._

_What he was feeling was an obvious scar…scars more like it.  Several slash marks were under his fingers, as he traced them from the tattoo, until he found another along the middle of her back, and another right beside it.  If he had to guess, Steve would surmise that they came from a knife fight._

_Steve couldn’t believe he didn’t notice these the night before, when they were together, but their tryst was rather desperate and fast.  And again, they were in the dark and not completely naked._

_Deep into their relationship, in their five years of utter bliss and happiness, which felt like a lifetime ago now, Steve could have described every square inch of Natasha’s body perfectly if he had to.  Natasha could have done the same with his body.  Hell, Steve would’ve never had to describe it, because he had actual documentation from all of the damn sketches and drawings he’d done of her._

_Because of their comfort and knowledge of each other’s bodies, and falling right back into their old pattern last night while they slept, was probably the only reason Natasha wasn’t waking up right now from Steve’s touch.  They were so used to roaming hands and intimate grazes when they were together, that what he was doing probably relaxed her.  Which was the complete opposite of how Steve was feeling._

_Now, after so many secrets and lies, and feeling and seeing what he did on her, it was like he was discovering her body again for the first time.  The scars might as well have been nails or broken glass on flat pavement, waiting to puncture a perfect tire.  That’s what this was like.  The more he discovered, the sicker he felt, and the more he felt like he could burst._

_Suspicion.  Anger.  Curiosity._

_Just enough of each to make Steve dive fully into his next actions._

_Not caring at all anymore if Natasha was still asleep, Steve fully sat up and was on his knees on the bed.  He pushed up her shirt as far as it would go, so the sides had scrunched up underneath her arms.  He saw several more tattoos on her back going across the middle underneath her sports bra, that he couldn’t quite make out right now._

_Feeling a sudden sense of panic, Steve looked up at her shoulder blade on her left side, drawing his fingertips to pattern on her skin there and the scar she’d shown him long ago at Quantico._

_As ridiculous as a person outside of the situation, might’ve found his actions to be right now, they weren’t at all to Steve.  He wasn’t sure why, but he had to find some evidence of their past…their life together, and had to see it with his own eyes.  He had to feel it._

_He found what he was looking for - the Navy tattoo and small knife wound from her childhood on her left shoulder.  Seeing the tattoo felt comforting in an obscure way as he ran his hand over his face in relief, scratching his palm as he trailed over his beard._

_An anchor and a compass.  A starting point of their life.  A reminder of what once was._

_Staring at the compass for a few seconds, Steve found himself breathing heavily, trying to calm his nerves, but the differences couldn’t go unnoticed for long.  The other tattoos were blaring like a flashing red light and his eyes were drawn away from the anchor._

_On her right shoulder, a two-headed eagle, joined in the middle, with heads facing opposite directions, was ingrained into her skin with ink.  Steve’s eyes drilled into her shoulder, thinking back to the literature and books and stories that Natasha had shared with him during their life together._

_It took him a second, but he recognized the two-headed eagle clearly now, as an old Russian monarchy symbol from the ancient Byzantine Empire, symbolizing power and rule over the east and west – the directions the eagles’ heads were pointed.  Soviet rule had brought the symbol back into their modern era._

_Another tattoo, and it felt like another punch to his stomach as Steve’s mouth began to feel dry._

_The discoveries wouldn’t let up though._

_Just above the eagles’ heads, Steve found a collection of uneven skin again.  The feeling of these scars were distinct.  They were burn marks, covering a square section on her shoulder, right above the tattoo._

_They were individual, and there was enough of them that Steve began counting each one.  They had to have been made by a small object.  Small, but hot enough to burn her flesh, making the scars permanent.  He counted them again, and his pulse quickened as the number increased higher and higher, until he finished counting.  28 burn marks._

_‘What the fuck is going on,’ Steve was yelling at himself in his head.  That line just repeated over and over right now._

_Steve noticed the other tattoos again, that weaved in and out of her sports bra, but they appeared to go in a crossed pattern, horizontally and vertically, across the line of her shoulders and down the middle of her back._

_Steve’s fingers grazed across her bra, until he passed the left strap.  His hands stilled.  He licked his lips from the instant, repulsed feeling in his stomach.  Two raised, circular scars were under his fingers, right by her bra strap, just to the left of the middle of her chest.  More importantly, right next to her heart._

_Steve recognized the scars immediately.  In fact, any cop, FBI Agent, or law enforcement person would know the feeling of these markings in a heartbeat – they were scars from bullet-holes.  His fore and middle finger pushed down into the scars, almost like he was checking for a pulse against them._

_Besides the Navy tattoo and old knife wound on her left shoulder, everything he had discovered on the canvas of her back was brand new to him.  He was sweating and felt chilled at the same time – just like when he woke up from his dream._

_The bullet-holes were the tipping point.  It all became too much, and everything dark and ugly inside of him, representing his feelings from the last five years, surged from his brain, heart, and stomach, to every part of his body._

_The imminent pain and anger could no longer be kept at bay._

_Where has she been?  What has she been doing?  What other lies will she tell?  Was any of it even real?_

_Questions coursed through him as a splitting headache cracked his senses.  He shut his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths through his nose.  His brain was on a runaway train right now, and he didn’t know if he could slow it down because everything was coming at him so fast._

_Quantico.  Betrayal.  Anguish.  Heartbreak.  Love.  Memories.  Suffering.  Bliss.  New York.  Agony.  Rage.  Russia._

_One question overpowered all the rest as Steve felt tears welling up in his eyes and a sense of panic to take over again.  His fingers pushed into the bullet-hole scars enough now, that it was no longer a gentle touch, and it caused Natasha to finally wake up, right as that blaring question coursed through his head, ‘Did I ever really even know her?’_

_Natasha’s eyes sprung open immediately as she felt the increasing pressure of Steve’s fingers on her back…on those two, little in size, but yet huge in permanence, scars._

_Her instincts took over._

_Natasha shoved his hand off of her and jerked awake, springing up from her stomach as she moved to her knees, now mirroring Steve’s position – like they were in a standoff._

_Her eyes were ablaze, having woken up out of surprise, trying to figure out what was going on in her surroundings.  She took him in, looked around the room quickly, recognizing the loft, and then went straight back to him.  The picture was coming together rapidly in her mind._

_Natasha didn’t need to ask him specific questions, because as she pulled her shirt back down over her bra and stomach, Steve’s eyes were also on fire.  So often, when they were together, they had this way of silently communicating through glances, stares, facial expressions, and touches – never needing to use words.  It was a sign of their profound intimacy and love._

_There was a silent but very loud message coming from Steve’s eyes right now, and it went straight through Natasha’s heart like a dagger.  She felt like she had been doused with freezing water, having just woken up a few seconds ago, and facing what she knew would be a painful conversation with Steve right now._

_The tension immediately rose to a stifling level in the air as their eyes refused to move off of each other.  Natasha licked her lips as a response from the anxiety she felt as her throat tightened and breath quickened._

_Each of those bodily responses came from both of them only several hours ago, as a result of unbridled passion and a need to be with one another.  The reasoning behind their reactions right now though, couldn’t be further from lust and desire.  They might as well have been lions stalking the same prey right now, with how they were looking at each other._

_Natasha knew the situation was more than delicate, with how Steve looked like he could explode._

_But like when Steve first woke-up from his dream of their memories together, Natasha was desperate too - to not be done reconnecting with him yet.  To not have last night be over already.  Time was moving too fast, even though it was only sunrise because she had so much she needed to say to him._

_Holding her hands up slowly, showing him her palms like she wasn’t hiding anything (as ironic as that sentiment was), she tried to move a little closer to him._

_Steve flinched as he saw her trying to get close, and his gaze shifted.  The fierceness in his eyes, switched, as his stare was only filled with sadness and despair now.  Natasha recognized both looks from him, from too many awful memories._

_Steve wasn’t the only one haunted by both their happy and sad memories._

_She moved a little closer, and she was almost touching his chest.  But he wasn’t having any of it right now.  He felt like he could throw up from the push and pull of their past and now…from the tugging from both his heart and mind.  Not in an aggressive manner, but in a firm movement, Steve pushed her hand away from him as he said under his breath, “I don’t even know why I came here.”_

_Speaking of daggers to her heart.  Natasha winced at his words, “Yes, you do Steve, we said it last night.”_

_Natasha may have moved her hands away from him, but she wasn’t going to back down._

_Steve shoved the heels of his palms into his eyes and held them there as he let out a shaky breath.  And then he pushed his fingers through his hair, almost like he was trying to wipe away everything he was feeling right now._

_But nothing went away._

_In fact, Natasha feared everything that was about to come out of him as he spoke again, “You almost died, Natasha.  I didn’t even know it…You have two fucking bullet holes right next…”_

_But he stopped talking and looked away for a second as Natasha saw his lower lip begin to quiver.  He shut his eyes and drew in a massive breath.  As the morning light was now filtering more into the loft, she watched his muscles, under his breathing, stretch his shirt along his chest and shoulders._

_Another breath, and he looked at her almost hollowly, as he spoke again, “Those bullet holes.  They’re right next to your heart.  I wasn’t there…I didn’t even fucking know about them.  You can’t tell me you were fine from whatever happened to you, Natasha.”_

_This was happening._

_They didn’t know where this conversation was headed as she was pulled onto that runaway train right along with Steve’s emotions.  But they did know the safe haven of the last few hours was over._

_Even though she spoke quietly, the sound of her voice rang loudly through the silent and tense air, “Steve, I didn’t say I was fine.  I didn’t say anything about those scars because I haven’t told you anything yet.  We haven’t even had a chance to talk.  Last night you said you didn’t want to until later.”_

_He jumped on her words, “Are you really trying to put the weight of everything I’ve missed…everything that you’ve lied to me about…everything that I didn’t even know happened, on the fact that I told you that I didn’t want to talk last night?”_

_She should have phrased her wording better, but honestly, she didn’t think there was anything that she could’ve said that stopped this inevitable collision from happening.  She recoiled a little at his words as he continued._

_“I didn’t want to talk last night, **Natasha,** because I was exhausted.  And I was happy for a second for the first time in years, being with you, even though I knew it was wrong…and even though I knew it would happen coming here...I didn’t want to talk, because I knew no matter what,  **this**  is what I would start feeling once we did start talking.”_

_Now her eyes were shut and **her**  lower lip was quivering a little…not just from the pain in his voice, but the pain of everything. _

_Choices and Consequences._

_Steve’s voice got louder, and it echoed the thunder they could both hear outside now, as he pushed himself up off of the bed.  Standing rigid and tense on the creaky floorboards, he continued._

_“You know what, Nat.  Trying to decipher these feelings when I think of you…and us…it’s like being on a goddamn seesaw.  And no amount of fucking, between us, can cover the lies and deceit that have infected our relationship from the beginning.”_

_Natasha flinched, feeling like she didn’t even deserve to be here with him, and that she did deserve everything he was saying.  She deserved more than it.  She deserved so much more.  Natasha wasn’t flinching at how it made her feel.  She was flinching because she hated that he was in so much pain._

_It wasn’t just that he had seen tattoos and scars on her back that he’d never seen before.  Visual images have a way of bringing feelings to the surface very quickly, and what he saw on her back, triggered all of his suffering._

_“Steve, please.  Please let me explain.”_

_He didn’t._

_“Let you explain…Do you know that’s what you first told me, when I first caught you in a lie at Quantico?  There are so many clichés that come to mind when I hear that from you, Natasha,” Steve started but took a breath as he shook his head before he continued, “I give you an inch, and you take a mile…every time I think we take a step forward, we move two steps back.  What a tangled web we weave...”_

_The words had bite as they came out of his mouth, and they stung as Natasha heard them.  Steve knew it as he watched her.  The light had turned to a dark grey in the loft as the thunder was closer, a sign of a storm coming._

_Of course, there would be a storm right now.  How fitting._

_Steve couldn’t help but think of another cliché, with the weather apparently matching the mood inside right now._

_Natasha couldn’t say anything.  She knew she should say something, but physically she couldn’t get any words to come out of her mouth.  This was an old and tired dance the two of them were in.  Natasha lied, Steve believed her for a while, until he didn’t or until he found out that she had been lying, Natasha tried to explain, they fought, and boy did they ever fight, they made-up, and then repeated it all over again.  It was part of their origin story._

_But for five years, the twisted cycle was on a break._

_After Quantico, they were both hopeful that this particular dance was over.  But the dance had only just begun then, little to her and Steve’s knowledge at the time.  They had been battered and beaten down since she left him and the FBI.  And she knew the pain from her betrayal was entrenched in his heart, and ran deeper than ever right now._

_Natasha had to try though, because what she had told him last night - that she loved him still - was truer than ever.  And she had to tell him everything that she needed to this weekend before their time was done._

_The pain ran deep in her too though.  Tears were forming in her eyes as she looked up at him, as he said, “Don’t look at me like that Natasha.”_

_Another crack of loud thunder interrupted them and she jumped, “Steve, you have to listen to me.  Please, you’ve always listened to me…eventually…No matter what, you’ve always given me the chance.”_

_“Chances are not endless, Natasha.”_

_His tone of voice was low - like he was stating a fact as rain started to hit the side of the cabin.  Natasha shivered from the cold air around her, now fully surrounding them, since they weren’t under the blankets and held by each other anymore.  Again, so many similar reactions to last night in the heat of passion with him.  But they now had a completely different meaning._

_Shivers, quickened pulses, and intense stares came from lust and love, that couldn’t be contained last night.  Now, those same reactions only epitomized where they were – in a dark room, filled with sorrow and pain and regret._

_Steve continued, “Chances are given to people that deserve and earn them…and for the longest time, I gave you every chance, Natasha, because I loved you.  Fuck, I still love you…do you know how messed up that is after everything?  But it didn’t matter for the longest time, because I forced myself to believe that you deserved every chance I could give you.”_

_Natasha silently wiped a tear now falling down her face._

_The rain was coming down outside, adding to the already miserable feeling inside._

_Natasha silently cried on one side of the bed as Steve stared at her with an emptiness she hadn’t seen in him before.  Anger?  Yes.  A look of disbelief or betrayal?  Yes.  Even an attempt to hate her?  Yes._

_This look though, seemed cold and dark.  Her lip trembled, which was also an old dance move in this fucked up waltz of theirs._

_But for the first time, Steve didn’t crumble at it and didn’t attempt to comfort her right now.  He knew what his heart had been through.  She **was**  his drug, but right now, probably because it was morning, and thoughts were racing through his head.  And probably because he had just been scared to death, feeling those goddamn bullet-holes on her, after seeing Russian tattoos on her, he’d never seen before.  A result of all of it, Steve was wound, and lashing out. _

_Sometimes, even the best of people, have their breaking point._

_“Steve,” Natasha started to say, but she felt her sobs come up from her chest, “You don’t know what I’ve risked coming to you now.  But I had to see you before it was too late.”_

_Another boom of thunder, and now lightning flashed outside too, causing the grey light to flicker in the loft, as the sound of hard rain hit the cabin._

_“Too late…”_

_Steve started to talk, but he was angry.  And wrecked emotionally.  And he was still thinking about Russia two years ago, and from everything that’s never been resolved from **five** years ago when she left.  He had gotten his fix with her last night.  He needed her just as desperately as she needed him.  But he was crashing right now, and crumbling under the weight of all of his pain.   _

_Natasha sat on her heels and curled into herself.  She began shaking from the tears that wouldn’t stop as she listened to Steve continue.  He could’ve thrown up when he felt the bullet holes on her back.  He could almost cry right now too.  But instead, he leaned into his anger for once because it was just too much._

_There was a sharp edge to his voice as he spoke, “Too late for what, Natasha?  Too late for me to find out that you almost died?  Too late to tell me more secrets, then follow those up with more lies?  Too late to leave me?  I’ll tell you what it’s too late for.  It’s too late for me to arrest you.  I think we know that, since I couldn’t bring myself to do it in Russia…and here I am after I spent every day searching for you since then...and all you had to do was say ‘jump,’ and I came running here like a goddamn lab rat, without even a second thought.  Do you know how wrong and fucked up that is, on so many levels?”_

_His fists were clenched.  Even leaning into his anger, couldn’t stop Steve’s eyes from glassing over as he finished, sounding defeated now, “I don’t know, Natasha.  Maybe it is just too late for anything else.”_

_Her head shot up in a state of frenzy as she looked at him.  They stared at each other, both with reddened and tired eyes.  She looked lost.  He sounded empty._

_He felt miserable, and he knew he didn’t mean half of what he said.  Or maybe he did feel it, but not to the extent he was laying into her.  He loved her, and he would never believe that it was too late for her, or them, because he had resigned himself finally in the last two years that he’d never get over her._

_But he also just couldn’t do any of this right now, because of how much his heart hurt._

_He thought of the memory in his dream when Natasha was held at gunpoint, and he, Stark, and Bucky helped her get out of it, and how utterly desperate he felt from the panic and worry running through him, as he smothered her afterwards, just happy that she was safe in his arms._

_And now, a rancid feeling ran through him as he thought of how close she was to dying from those apparent gunshots that had scarred her.  And he wasn’t even fucking there for her._

_He wouldn’t have even known she had died._

_Just as a loud drum of thunder caused a vibration in the small cabin, Natasha’s silent tears and withheld sobs, finally found their voice.  Through uneven breaths, Natasha looked at Steve and said, “I’m so sorry Steve, I never deserved you, but I always loved you, and I always will.”_

_Natasha felt the panic rise in her chest._

_She knew she had to get out of there.  Natasha didn’t blame Steve for any of it…She hated what **she’d**  done to him, and she couldn’t hold his pained stare anymore.  She was weak in the moment, and she did what she always did.  She did what she did best - she ran. _

_Natasha slid off the bed, turned down the narrow stairs from the loft, and found her boots at the foot of the table, where they were together the night before.  She slipped them on, found her jacket, and put it on.  Within a minute of her last words to Steve, she had run out the front door into the cold, pouring rain._

_Steve stood silently as he heard the door to the cabin shut._

_“Fuck.”_

_He ran his hands through his hair and over his beard again, groaning, and trying to figure out what the hell just happened.  Steve had been trying to draw out their morning in bed, not even 30 minutes ago, because he just wanted to feel her in his arms a little longer._

_But those goddamn scars had him thinking about losing her and not even knowing it, and it sent him over the edge.  He couldn’t even remember everything he just said, but he knew his words were harsh and cold.  It might have felt good in the moment (but did it really?) to lash out, and she may have deserved every second of it, but he felt worse than when he first felt her scars._

_And, then it set in quickly that she had just ran out the front door, after he had spent two years finding her again, and he was overcome with a panicked terror._

_If their fighting was a familiar dance, so was this one._

_The crash from his high was in full force.  The longing and draw to have her near again started to make him feel powerless and out of control.  For a person who needed to be in control, he hated himself in these moments and what she did to him._

_For once though, in their torrid relationship, Steve had been the one lying in their argument.  He told her that it was too late for them and that chances weren’t endless.  He wanted to hurt her like she had hurt him so many times, even though he knew the words weren’t true.  He also knew what was going to happen next.  Natasha ran, and Steve always ran after her._

_And that he did.  He barreled down the steps as quickly as Natasha had.  He found his shoes and jacket and put them on.  And then he ran out the door, into the freezing cold rain after her._

* * *

**_12 Years Ago –_ **

_They arrived at ‘Shipwrecked’ ten minutes after Clint texted Natasha back at their hotel suite.  It was 7:00 pm now.  The bar wasn’t busy for the evening yet, so Steve and Natasha found a booth in the back for privacy._

_Steve ordered a whiskey for himself, a scotch for Clint, and a bourbon for Natasha.  She nervously drummed her fingers on her glass, sitting right next to Steve, on the same side of the booth, and kept looking over her shoulder to see if her brother had arrived yet.  Steve’s right hand found her knee, and rubbed it softly as he whispered, “Breathe Natasha, nothing bad is going to happen.”_

_They heard the door open._

_Steve watched the man he saw Natasha with six weeks ago, come over to the booth.  His eyes went straight past Steve to Natasha, “Hey Sis.”  Natasha gave Steve’s knee a quick squeeze.  They stood up and Steve stepped out of the way as Natasha beamed, “Clint, I’m so glad to see you.”  Clint pulled her into a big hug and picked her up slightly off the ground.  Steve smiled at their embrace, and even heard a brief exchange in Russian between them that sounded like additional terms of affection._

_They sat down in the booth with Clint on one side, and Steve and Natasha on the other._

_Clint looked down at the drink that was waiting for him on the table and picked it up, swirling it around in his hand.  “Forgetting our Russian roots already, Tasha?  What’s with the lack of vodka?”_

_The first defensive comment of the night had officially been served._

_Steve was holding Natasha’s hand under the table as he felt her squeeze hard, automatically responding to her brother’s stiff tone.  “Clint.  You like scotch.  It’s your favorite drink besides Vodka.  And tonight is about new beginnings.  Not our past.”_

_Steve didn’t want to interject, but Clint was bordering on being abrasive, “So, you told him I like scotch then.”  Natasha started to answer him, “Yes, I did Clint.  I want this to be a nice evening,” but was cut off quickly by her brother, “I can only imagine what else you’ve told him.”_

_Okay, not only was there an edge to his words, but Clint hadn’t even so much as looked at Steve yet, or addressed him beyond a passive pronoun of ‘him’ or ‘he’, almost like he wasn’t acknowledging that Steve was even present._

_Steve definitely didn’t like where this night was already headed.  Maybe Clint was testing the waters.  Maybe he was being a protective brother, but it’d only been a few minutes, and Steve had to say something to try and right the course._

_“Clint, before you and I get off on the wrong foot, how about we actually introduce ourselves.  Keep in mind the woman we both deeply care for really wants us to get along.  I’m Steve Rogers, and your sister is incredibly important to me.  It’s nice to meet you.”_

_If Natasha didn’t know Steve and had just heard him, she might have rolled her eyes.  But she did know him, and she couldn’t help but smile at his sincerity, trying to make this work._

_Clint wasn’t having it though.  He smiled at Steve and took another drink, drawing his lips against his teeth as the he let it go down his throat.  “Wow Sis, you found yourself a real boy scout, didn’t you?”  Natasha pleaded with him, “Clint, please.  You showed up here, so please try.  I trust Steve, and so can you.”_

_Steve already felt his throat tighten and didn’t like that Clint was antagonizing the situation._

_“Clint, you can call me any name in the book, but I’m not going anywhere.  Nat and I have a well-deserved weekend off from training.  It was my idea to spend some of that time with you because I want to get to know you.  You’re important to Natasha, and what’s important to her, is to me too.”_

_Clint laughed sarcastically, but then he looked at his sister, begging him to try.  This guy in her life stuck up for her, without a moment of hesitation.  So, for the moment, he retreated from his defenses, cleared his throat, and decided to try and make his sister happy.  “Thanks for the drink, Rogers.  I’m Clint.”_

_Steve smiled and nodded back at him as the three individuals started to talk._

* * *

_An hour later and three drinks in, Steve was laughing at a story Natasha was telling about their childhood._

_She had stopped Clint from hurting another kid at their training camp because she didn’t want him to get in trouble.  The situation had almost dissolved itself.  But, when the kid tried to take a cheap shot at Clint, Natasha took over and pummeled the other kid._

_“She may be younger than me, but she’s stubborn as hell, and always had to be the one winning,” Clint said._

_“That sounds familiar to me,” Steve smiled.  Natasha cut them both off, “Alright, before you both decide to gang up on me, you should know the kid was fine.  And he was taught an important lesson - don’t mess with me or my loved ones.”  They all laughed again._

_Steve excused himself to use the bathroom.  Before he got up though, he leaned over, kissed her on her temple, and whispered, “Be right back.”  She grinned and looked down at her glass._

_Clint looked over his shoulder and as soon as Steve was out of earshot, he started.  “Wow, does he have it bad for you.”  Natasha put her hands up to stop him, “Stop. So do I, Clint.  I meant what I said before.  He’s caring and understanding and patient…and he…he just means so much to me.  You can trust him.”_

_The air shifted as Clint narrowed his eyes at her last words.  Apparently the last hour of ‘playtime’ had been just that for her brother, an act.  “Trust, Natasha,” Clint started, lingering on her name, “I trust you...My sister…That’s it, remember?  That’s how it’s always been for us.  How it’s needed to be.”_

_Frustration turned to paranoia and then a hint of anger was added into his tone, “I can’t believe you told him about the training camps.  What does everyone else know in the FBI?”_

_Natasha sighed, “They know the orphanage cover story and being adopted, but no specifics.  Steve only knows that.  I did tell them I took a lot of martial arts and fight classes when I was young, and about my time in the Navy and the special forces.  They’ve all seen my tattoo.”_

_A couple of seconds of silence, and Natasha’s palms started sweating.  Clint’s whole demeanor tensed and shifted, causing Natasha to feel tight in her stomach._

_He clenched his jaw, “Jesus Christ, Tasha.  This is a big fucking problem.  Do you know what type of questions and speculation that will cause?  That’s why **no one**  was supposed to know about any of it.  No one was supposed to know  **anything**  about you or your past.  You were trained to infiltrate and hide.  You weren’t trained to stand out and reveal details about your past to some Golden Boy.  He looks like he came straight from Leave it to Beaver.  Shit Tasha, he looks like the epitome of everything we’re supposed to stand against.” _

_Natasha’s brow creased.  It wasn’t just worry and anxiety coursing through her body right now.  He was trying to upset her, and it pissed her off.  She leaned toward him, across the table, “I had to Clint…No, I take that back.  I wanted to.”_

_He sat back and looked at her, unmoved by her words as she continued, “The team means a lot to me.  The FBI means a lot to me.  Steve means…”_

_Clint saw the affect just thinking about Steve Rogers had on Natasha Romanoff.  He scoffed as she continued, “Clint, the team…they’re not going to say anything about my fighting or my tattoo or the special forces team I was on because we trust each other like a family.”  She regretted the word as soon as it came out of her mouth._

_“_ _дерьмо_ ,”  _Natasha whispered under her breath._

_It didn’t go unnoticed that she slipped out of frustration and said ‘shit’ in Russian._

_Clint had her on edge, and she didn’t mean anything by what she had just said – especially anything like he was going to take it.  She cursed herself again, inside her head as her brother now glared at her.  He spoke in a hushed but harsh tone, “Family?  You and I are fucking family, Natasha.  You and I are supposed to trust each other and **only**  each other.” _

_He took a big drink, “Un-fucking believable.  We survived the camps as kids because we could rely on each other.  We’ve survived everything in our lives because of each other.  You abandoned me once for the military, and I was left with our handlers…alone.  I forgave you then because you came back.  But now?  Now, you’ve found a new ‘family’ in less than three months.  You’ve always been doe-eyed when it came to American Ideals, but this is ridiculous, even for you.”_

_Natasha could see the pain in his eyes, and she felt it in her heart, “Clint, stop.  You know that’s not true.  Yes, we’ve only had each other to rely on for our entire lives, and I love you more than anything in this world.  You know that.”_

_He didn’t respond immediately, so she took a chance and continued, “Yes, we’ve been each other’s only real family, but we deserve more.  You’ve been my everything, but you shouldn’t have to be.  A life should be **more**  than just you and me.  I left for the Navy because I thought I could start a new life for you and me.  I thought it was a way out…I thought we could escape our past and have a shot at being normal.  But, our handlers weren’t going to allow that.  They made that clear to me.  So, I made a deal with them to leave the Navy and come back.  And as long as I stayed in the US, and kept in touch with you, I could join the FBI.  This is still our shot, Clint.” _

_“A deal?  You are so naïve, **Yelena** , but I never thought of you as stupid.”_

_Clint let his words sting, especially mentioning the name she was born with.  They never called each other by their birth names.  It wasn’t a source of pride or joy.  It was a memory of their birthparents, and only bad things followed that line of thinking.  He was purposefully trying to pass his own pain onto Natasha, and it was working._

_Because timing is everything, and sometimes timing just sucks, Steve of course returned right now._

_The tense discussion abruptly stopped as he sat back down.  He knew Clint and Natasha needed a little time alone, and he really thought Clint was giving him a chance.  Their first hour had gone okay after a little bit of a rocky start…or so he thought.  But when he sat down, they were sitting in silence, staring at each other, and Natasha had the look of worry written all over her face._

_Steve tried to stay positive.  He didn’t have a good feeling, but he didn’t know what was going on and said, “Hey, did I miss anything?” as light as he could._

_Steve looked back and forth between Natasha and Clint and saw a big difference in their appearances.  Clint was rigid and tense, with a pointed stare at his sister.  He was clearly angry.  Natasha was more than upset, which worried him.  They both were completely different than five minutes ago when Steve had left them._

_Steve tried to reach under the table to grab Natasha’s hand, but she held them together in her lap and wouldn’t move.  Clint broke first and looked at Steve as he challenged, “Rogers, my sister and I were just talking about how close her new **family**  has become at the FBI.” _

_Steve thought he could tell what was going on with his emphasis on a certain word.  “Clint, you know when we talk about family in the FBI, it’s because the team becomes close from being in life and death situations.  There’s a trust that’s formed, but it doesn’t mean anyone’s actual family means anything less.  I have a brother and a mom that’s just as important to me as you are to Natasha.”_

_Clint inched toward Steve, “Those words – trust, family….  You think you can trust my sister because you’re a family now, right?  Let me ask you, what do you really know about little Yelena’s history, here?”_

_Steve was getting irritated himself now, “I know what I need to know, Clint.  I trust your sister.  And I know the things she’s told me already, have been incredibly difficult for her to share.  But she’s all the stronger for that.”  Steve paused to look over to Natasha, to actually talk to her instead of about her.  He finally found her hand and held it in his lap, “You are, Nat.  You’re so strong.  And I know you’ll share whatever you need to when you feel like you can.”_

_Clint grinned, “So, Natasha.  You’ve told him about being born in the Soviet Union.  You’ve told him about the camp.  You’ve told him about our handlers, and you’ve told him about me.”_

_The conversation had turned from bad to worse.  It was clear that Clint wasn’t getting past being triggered by Natasha’s use of ‘family’ for the FBI team.  What was also clear, was that Clint probably didn’t need that word to push him over the edge - he came here looking to have this fight._

_Steve looked at Natasha as she held such a tight grip on his hand that if it were normal circumstances, he might say something.  Instead he just let her squeeze as she swallowed a big drink._

_Clint turned back to Steve, “Let me ask you something, Rogers.  You ever take a man’s life as a good Ol’ Captain in the Army under the banner of the U.S. of A.?”_

_Clint was trying to get under his skin, and it was working.  That was a **hell**  of a loaded question.  It was a question that you didn’t ask any military person, man or woman, that’s spent time overseas in battle, unless you wanted it to be answered with a fight. _

_Steve’s chest started to tighten as images of blood and bodies, and sounds of rapid gunfire flashed through his mind.  He was getting more than a little pissed off now, as his own tone of voice darkened, “I’m going to give you a chance to walk that back, Clint.  And I’ll give you a little lesson in manners.  Out of the respect of the lives I’ve had to take in battle, I will not dignify your provoking attempts with a fist to the face, which is what you deserve.  I don’t know what you’re trying to accomplish here, but I’m not going anywhere, and as you can see, it’s only hurting Nat.”_

_“Clint, please.” Natasha said with a shaky breath as she held on to Steve’s hand like her life depended on it._

_“No, Tasha.  I think if Captain America here, wants to know you, and be your hero…If he wants to swoop in as your Golden Knight, and show you what a good life you can have with him, then I’m going to look out for him.  I’m going to tell him what he wants to know.  Because I think I have a good idea what details you’ve been keeping from him.”_

_He stared at Steve, completely disregarding Natasha now, “What do you want to know, Rogers?  Do you want to know about the time she robbed a bank as a twelve-year-old?  Or how about the time she lit a fire to a rival of our handler’s home, physically scarring the innocent wife and children for life because they were home when they weren’t supposed to be?”_

_Clint sneered before he continued, “No…you probably even imagined scenarios like that.  Well, how about the time she had to attempt to seduce a cop, our handlers wanted under their thumb, at the age of 16?  You can thank me that she didn’t go further than a striptease, when I put a bullet through that fucking pedophile’s brain.  Or **how about** , the five-year old’s legs she broke back in the USSR….or the lives she had to take, before she ever thought about running away to the Navy?”_

_Steve felt like he was going to be sick.  Not because of what Clint was telling him, but because of what he was making Natasha feel like.  Clint was a wounded animal that felt attacked and abandoned all over again, and he was going to hurt the person most important to him, because of it._

_“Clint, you need to stop it, right now.”  Steve said harshly.  If it was anyone else besides Natasha’s brother, Steve would have had him outside already._

_Clint shot back, “No, Steve.  You need to stop.  You need to stop and think about the predicament you’ve found yourself in.  Choices aren’t a luxury the two of us have been afforded in life.  We were babies sold into a life to be trained as soldiers.  Soldiers for a war, that we didn’t even have a choice to sign up for, like you did when you signed up for the Army.  A war that hasn’t even been declared, and may never be, but that doesn’t matter to people like our handlers.”_

_He turned towards his sister, “Natasha, do you **really**  think our handlers and the Russians in charge of the program will let you go?” _

_Steve could see the tears forming in Natasha’s eyes as Steve said, “Clint, that’s enough.  I think you need to leave.”_

_Clint chuckled as he reached for his jacket, “Don’t worry, Rogers.  I was getting there anyway…Natasha, maybe you’ve fooled yourself into thinking a life is possible at the end of this rainbow at Quantico.  But you’re not fooling me.  You can spend all the time you want with your new-found ‘family.’  But, when you remember what’s required by our family, and only our family, you let me know.  This little puppy love between you and Rogers can last at the Quantico.  So, enjoy it while it lasts.  But after you graduate, you know you’ll be forced to come back.”_

_Clint got up from the table, put his jacket on, and popped his neck before leaning over to say one more thing, “Tasha, I do love you, and I miss you.  I’m sorry you’re mad at me.  But this is about facing reality.  I even think I’d like Steve in a different life.  But, this isn’t your life…It never was.  And the sooner you realize that, the less people in your new **family**  will get hurt.” _

_Anger spiked inside of Steve as he stood up to stand face-to-face with Clint, “Is that a threat, Clint?”_

_Clint shook his head and stared back, “No, it’s a fact, Rogers.  And if you knew who my sister and I were dealing with, you’d know it was a fact too.”  Clint walked out the door as Natasha put her head in her hands._

* * *

**Present Day**  – FBI HQ

Fury stared at the room, still taking in everything they had heard about Poseidon as a terrorist group, and the pictures of Natasha that were shared. 

Loki had enough time and it was time for him to answer, “Loki, I want answers.  How do you know Romanoff is alive?” Fury demanded.

Loki didn’t hesitate this time, “Well, I’ve certainly enjoyed making everyone reunite, and pointing out the  _many_ errors of your ways, and of course my main motivation in all of this was to help Natasha…”

“Loki, get on with it,” Fury said.  He was losing the only patience he had left.

Loki arched an eyebrow at his old boss and smirked, “Right.  Well, yes all of what I’ve said.  But it doesn’t mean I’m not prepared to make this advantageous for myself…This may come as a shock to you, Nick.  But the thought of being in a prison jumpsuit for the rest of my life is a little less than appealing to me.  I am prepared to turn over a new leaf, if you will.  I’m looking to make a career change, and I’m thinking the term informant or  _asset_  might be best suited for my new employment track.”

Bucky snorted, “You can’t be serious.” At the same time as Stark said, “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

Fury glared at the room before cutting them all off, “Loki, before you try to wager any leverage you think you have, into a deal out of charges being dropped, I’m going to stop you.  Your experience with us is less than favorable I might remind you.”

Loki grinned, “Ah, but don’t let narrow mindedness hinder you, Fury.  I consider experience, experience.  And I have a great deal of it in all trades.  Imagine the worlds I can lead you into.  The criminals I can deliver.  The drug dealers I can help you apprehend.  The sex trafficking you could stop…all for a small price.”

“You’re on thin ice, Loki.”  Fury said, but Loki kept talking, “Alright, I’ll get to the point - no prison time.  You want me on house arrest for life?  Fine.  You want me to never have internet access outside of the confines of this building, fine.  But just give me my warm showers and soft sheets, and the comfort of not being in a cell.  It’s simple.  I work for you.  You own me.  We bring bad guys down.”

Fury stood back for a few seconds as everyone started talking amongst themselves.  The team was clearly not in favor of Loki’s suggestion, but Fury’s FBI team knew what he was going to do, before he even said it. 

Nick Fury was a man who worked in the grey, constantly.  He made decisions while considering all angles.  He meant it when he said that he would have fought harder for Loki if the past had happened today, instead of seven years ago.  Loki committed many crimes, and did so willingly, but he didn’t start on that path. 

Fury didn’t just see the grey in this scenario – he started seeing the endless possibilities. 

Maybe this was more than an olive branch.  Maybe this was Fury’s way of making his amends with the situation.  Maybe this was him learning from mistakes.  It was  _definitely_  him removing any personal feelings from the situation, because every other agent in the room would have locked Loki up.  But, Fury was older and wiser, and as Loki said, experience is experience. 

Fury spoke, “I don’t know how much of a deal you’re going to consider this, because if you so much as blink outside the confines of what your limitations are, you’ll be headed to prison.  This isn’t charges being dropped.  This is you being on a work release program, where your work is here in this building, and you’re released to a home we have set up that is secure.  Until then, you’re here in our holding cell in HQ. 

We arrest criminals together, you get to stay out of prison, but the FBI wins. You go against the agreement in anyway, you go to prison immediately, and we still arrested criminals  _and_ you. 

Remember, Loki.  This is like blackjack.  And I am the house.  And the house  _always_  wins.”

Tony, Maria, Thor, and Rhodey looked befuddled.  Almost like they were fish out of water, gasping for air with how quickly this situation was progressing.  Wanda couldn’t help but raise her eyebrow at her old friend, knowing that somehow, this was his endgame from today’s events, all along. 

Loki didn’t set up the capture of himself, where everyone was reunited at the abandoned farm, only to antagonize everyone in this room. 

Like he said – this was  _advantageous_. 

The real goal was to send Steve on his way, and to leverage what Loki knew into this deal.  Wanda was almost smiling at him, because she also knew the motivation behind all the chain of events today.  Loki’s real motivation was to try and help Natasha.  He was simply having his cake and eating it too, even though there was nothing simple about it.

Fury continued, “I’m prepared to cut a deal with you.  You work with us.  You are 100% honest, you help us with Poseidon, and then afterwards, you give intel on anyone you’ve illegally worked with in the last seven years to help bring them down.  In return, we’ll keep you on as an informant and asset.  You’ll be on house arrest except for here and wherever we need you to go, but, you won’t be in prison.”

“Why Nicholas J. Fury, wherever did you get a  _great_  idea like that.  Where do I sign?” Loki said as he wiggled his fingers through his cuffs. 

Fury held his palms up to stop any protests that were about to find their way into the conversation.

“I don’t want to hear it from any of you.  We don’t have the time.  So, I’ll make this quick.  Loki is on the FBI’s wanted list – not the CIA’s, Homeland’s, or NSA’s.  And your bosses gave me the clearance to run this task force with whatever means necessary…My task force…My department in the FBI…My  _damn_ rules.”

He paused to make sure they were quiet and listening, “We need all of the help we can with Poseidon and this pending threat – you’ve all said so yourselves.  Hell the FBI didn’t even know the name of it before today, so yeah, I’d say  _all_ of us working together is going to be required.  Loki, despite his poor choices, is very talented and resourceful.  He can be a valuable asset for us.  And as I told you countless times at Quantico, know and use every angle you can.  Remember, if you want to stay ahead, you need to keep both eyes open.”

Fury was directing this ship, and he’d made his decision.  That was that. 

The room stayed silent as he finished, “Loki, you have one chance here before papers are drawn up.  Otherwise deal’s off.  You tell us everything.  How do you know Natasha’s alive?”

Loki had a glint in his eye as he gave the slightest of grins to Wanda. 

But without hesitating any further, Loki spoke.  “You got it,  _boss_.  So, I was booted from the FBI and joined the underworld of crime.  You all know that.  I didn’t hear about the name Poseidon until recently - the same time as the CIA, NSA, and Homeland.  But, there were rumors all over the dark web about former soviet spies still being in other countries ever since I’d started my life of crime, probably way before that too.  Poseidon may be a new name, but the program has been in effect for a very long time.  They play the  _long_  game.”  

He took a deep breath and continued, “I told you before, that I saw Natasha awhile back.  We didn’t spend much time together.  We talked about missing the team, regret, and then forgiveness.  Nothing else was discussed, but it was enough time.”

“Enough time for what?” Fury asked.

“Enough time for me to know Natasha never had a chance in this life.  Bruce said it earlier.  In those photos, Natasha looked empty.  Well let me tell you, she was empty.  She was a shell of the person we knew and loved at Quantico and here at the NYO.  She had her brother, and that was it, just like her entire life.  It was like she had resigned herself to the fact, that everything good was gone except Clint.  I remember her telling me how her and Clint’s lives would never change, despite how hard she tried.”

Loki stopped for a few seconds, thinking of their encounter, and a sadness washed over his face as he said, “I told her somehow, someway, she could always find a way back to Rogers.  You should have seen her face when I mentioned his name, especially with where we were at.  She looked like she was going to be sick, and she told me the people she and Clint were sold to as children would never allow her to be free.  Then, she kissed me on the cheek and disappeared.  I left a few minutes later.” 

Loki could feel the sorrow in the room as a couple of shaky breaths were given, and a sniffle from Maria escaped.  “That was the last time I saw or spoke to her.  But a little over two years ago, I caught a chat on the dark web that peaked my interested, with two individuals, with the chat names of HackerJacker and Candyman.  The chat popped out at me because they were both hackers the FBI had cases on.  So, I was curious to find out who was trying to copycat their names, or how in the hell the hackers were getting on the web from prison.”

Finding his groove in his own story, he continued, “I did some tracing of the chat.  HackerJacker covered their bases well and was untraceable.  Candyman was good…but not flawless.  And that’s because Candyman wasn’t a hacker; it was Rogers.  He found Natasha, and they were chatting and hinting at meeting up.  That’s how I knew they made contact two years ago. 

Loki went on, “Then 18 months ago, you received the photos.  The web was buzzing that a former Russian spy who’d infiltrated the FBI was found dead, leaving all of you in mourning.  Criminals were laughing in glee, but I was devastated.  But then, when you didn’t invite me to the memorial, I became angry.  So, I broke into your computer system, Wanda, and got the photos of Natasha.”

Loki cut Wanda off before she could even respond, “Small potatoes compared to everything else, Maximoff.  Don’t worry, I’ll help you improve your security and firewalls while I’m on my house arrest. 

Wanda looked at him in shock, but she couldn’t help but raise her eyebrows at him.  Something in his voice, had just a  _hint_ of how he used to joke with her.

He continued, “I had my suspicions, but even I thought Natasha was really gone, for about a year.  Then, a little over six months ago, I was contacted by someone on the web.  They told me the photos were faked and that Natasha was alive, but she wasn’t going to be for much longer.  The contact said she’d been taken and was being held captive for over a year.  Again that was six months ago when I was contacted.  They tried everything and were desperate to find her.  So, they finally turned to me for help.”

Loki paused and took a breath before he finished, “My contact was Clint.”

You could hear the screech of chairs against the floor as everyone sat up.  Stark, Sam, and Bucky all slammed their hands against the table either by accident or reflex. 

Maria jumped on his words though and said, “Wait,  _your_  contact was Clint?” 

Loki nodded, and Maria said in a louder voice to everyone’s surprise, “My  _asset_  is Clint.  I didn’t tell you earlier because I wasn’t sure where his loyalties lied.  And, he never told me anything about Natasha being alive.  But oh my god, Clint’s trying to save his sister, and Steve’s helping him.”

* * *

**Present Day -**  Driving

Steve looked at Clint with shock and anger at first, but then pointed his gun directly toward him, “What the hell are you doing here Clint?” 

Clint walked towards Steve slowly, with his hands up, “Listen to me, Rogers.  I know you probably want to kill me right now, but we really don’t have the time.  You’re here because I worked with Loki to get you here.  I need your help to save my sister.”

Steve’s head was spinning. 

Feeling light-headed, he leaned over to put his head between his knees, while still trying to keep the gun pointed at Clint.  ‘ _Breathe.  Breathe._ ’ He told himself. 

Steve looked furious.  Like he could become violent, as he stood up again after a couple of seconds and demanded loudly, “What did you  _fucking_  do to her, Clint?”

Clint took another step forward, “Rogers, you’re going to need the gun for where we’re going.  After that, if we can get her out, you can do whatever you want to me.  I’ve been looking for her every minute since she was taken around 21 months ago.  Steve, she’s been held captive ever since she was taken a few months after you last saw her.” 

Steve listened, but words stopped getting through. 

Since Loki told Rogers what he did at HQ, Steve still hadn’t allowed himself to feel any hope.  And now, not only was hope creeping into his heart, but so was the fear he heard behind Clint’s words.  It was a poisonous feeling, coursing through him, as Steve struggled to see and think and breath for a moment…as he mucked through the heavy fog suffocating his thoughts of what happened to her. 

“She’s alive?”

Two words…Two words filled with both hope and fear.  Both faith and pain.  And both love and terror. 

It was all he could force out in a cracked voice.  Everything was intensifying.  It was like walking out into a snow-covered landscape in the sun, being blinded by the brightness.  But it was more than that.  It was like all of his senses flooded at once, but he forced himself to focus, pinching his nose and breathing through the instant headache that was forming. 

He heard Clint say through it all, “She’s alive Steve, but we only have about four hours to get this planned and to get her out safely.  The other two SUV’s are full of my team that’s going to help.” 

Steve put his hands on his knees again.  Tears were forming in his eyes, but rational thoughts couldn’t catch up with his body’s response.  Even though Loki had told him she was alive, he never let himself fully believe until  _right_ now.  It was like his fight or flight mechanism kicked in automatically when Loki had told Steve, but only now, hearing it from Clint, was his mind, actually catching up with his body.

And the confirmation from Clint made him feel like he was going to throw up. 

She was alive. 

But he said she had been captured.  And held…for almost 21 months? 

Steve stood back up again and bellowed out a guttural sound, dropping his gun in the process as he charged at Clint and punched him square in the jaw.

Clint flew back a couple feet, almost losing his footing, but Steve advanced on him.  He grabbed Clint’s jacket and moved within an inch of his face.  Through gritted teeth, he yelled, “How is this happening?  What the fuck happened to her?  You goddamn, son of a bitch…how could you let her be taken?" 

Clint shoved him off as he rubbed his jaw from the impact of Steve’s fist, “Watch it Rogers.  We can do this after we save her.  I am here because I need your help.  So, you and I need to shut the fuck up about everything else…Because working together is the only way Natasha makes it out alive tonight.”

A man who loses everything and somehow finds his way back to the shell of a life, barely scraping by.

That synopsis - a plot summary of a depressing drama - was Steve’s life over the last 18 months.  But in the matter one day…less than one day, Steve was a man who’d thought he lost everything, only now, to be given an ounce of hope.  Desperation and fear ran rampant in him - desperation to find her, and fear of what he would do, if he didn’t succeed.

Steve stepped back, sucked in a shaky breath, and grabbed his gun off the ground, “I swear to fucking god Clint, if we don’t find her alive, I am going to kill you myself.” 

He pinched the bridge of his nose, and took a second to collect himself…as much as he possibly could, “What do you need me to do?”

* * *

“What do you need me to do?”, Steve asked.

Clint said, “Alright Rogers, you know the people from Natasha’s and my past are not to be toyed with.  I don’t have time right now to explain all the details, and it’s important that we get moving soon.”

Steve had tried to push the baggage aside for a moment, but his head was pounding.

There were questions that were hammering inside of him, and he had to know. 

“Clint, I’ll do whatever I have to, to save her.”  His voice cracked at his words, but he forced himself to continue, “But I’m not going anywhere with you and some SUV’s full of people I don’t know, without some goddamn answers first.”

Steve started asking his questions, one right after the other, “Where are we going to?  Where’s Natasha?  What have they done to her?” 

“God, you’re still so fucking stubborn, Rogers.  Just like Tasha,” Clint answered, and took a deep breath before continuing.

“Here’s the short version.  I know Natasha met you at that cabin in a campground from your childhood two years ago.  I know because Natasha and I had trackers on each other for precaution, in case something happened to either one of us.  She was acting desperate before you met up though – even erratic at times.  So, when she left to meet you, I was worried and tailed her.  I noticed that I wasn’t the only one following her though.”

Steve couldn’t keep his thoughts straight.  So many things were falling into place in his mind about Natasha being desperate and lost two years ago.  He remembered their conversation about him being poison to her, and her a drug to him, and all the conversations that followed that weekend.  How fitting that a poisonous drug could cause a slow and painful death.  That’s how Steve had felt for the last two years, until today. 

He was overcome with all of the memories of her. 

Seven years ago, when Natasha left, the healthy thing for both of them would’ve been to never look back.  Their love was a once in a lifetime love though, as complicated and disastrous as it was.  So, when Natasha left him, even though Steve felt betrayed and angry, he also felt desperate to find her again. 

And any attempt to move on from her in the three years that followed her betrayal to the FBI, was only met with glorious failure on his part.  It was only appropriate that he finally tracked her down in Russia, where her life began, four years ago.  But complications and another disastrous encounter after he attempted to arrest her, left him even more in need to find her again.

He may have been unsuccessful at arresting her in Russia, but what his trip to her mother country did accomplish, if anything, was Steve being able to finally push away his denial…His denial that he could possibly get over her someday.  Some people are able to move on, but not him.  He’d always known, but he finally admitted the fact to himself after Russia. 

So, then they rendezvoused at the cabin.  Another short-lived encounter occurred with a flash and a bang...with more complications than he could count. 

Quantico and New York.  Russia.  The cabin. 

The summary of the entirety of their time together.  Some of it long and beautiful.  Some of it quick and tragic.  And a bigger void was left in Steve’s life after each time.

Then he saw the photos of her body 18 months ago, and a void wasn’t appropriate to describe his feelings anymore.  His world shattered as he thought he’d never see or hear or feel her again.

But then today happened with Loki, and now Clint confirmed Loki’s words.  She was alive.

He snapped out of his spiraling thoughts and asked, “Was it Ivan and Oksana that tailed her?”

Clint smirked at Steve.  Rogers knew so much about their past.  He knew enough about Natasha that he could be mistaken as family, and at one point, Clint even thought that would become a reality.  So, the fact that Steve dropped the names of Ivan and Oksana Petrovich into the conversation like it was second nature to him, only amused Clint as he responded.

“No, our handlers wouldn’t ever stoop to the level of tailing someone they were supposed to be in control of.  It was just one of their lowly henchmen assigned to tail, report when they found out where she was going, and then return.”

Clint continued, “Let’s just say after Russia, until the time you met up with her at the cabin, Tasha became much more  _difficult_  for Ivan and Oksana to handle…She’d become openly hostile towards them in private and questioned their authority in public…she even refused to complete missions.  I think the breaking point for them was when they found Natasha’s journal.” 

Steve looked at Clint, “Journal?”

Clint nodded, “I have it, and when we get her back, you can read it…You’ll find you’re the starring character in it, Rogers.  But she also indicated in the last section of it, a plan for defecting from them.”

Steve listened as Clint said, “They let Natasha have a second chance seven years ago, but by no means are they forgiving people.  They saw a means to an end still – a way to use her more…But when they read her plan to defect in the journal, they’d finally had it…no more second chances.  Instead, they wanted nothing more than to draw out her pain and suffering.  Which all led to right now.” 

Clint, for the first time since running Steve off the road, showed his emotions.  He looked away, trying to hold back tears.  Steve ran his hand over his face.  He felt Clint’s pain and could feel his own tears form as his throat tightened. 

“Goddamn it, how could you have been so reckless?  We were making progress,” Clint said under his breath, but Steve overheard.  Clint wasn’t talking to Steve just then.  He was talking to his sister.

Steve asked, “What do you mean, Clint?  What Progress?  What do you mean reckless?” He knew they couldn’t waste anytime right now, but his head was pounding from the confusion, the anger, and from the rapid questions racing through his mind. 

Clint took a deep breath, “Later Rogers, I promise you.  If we save her, you can keep me in a hole for the rest of my life and spend the rest of yours asking all the questions you want.  Look, all I meant was it was so unlike her to leave a clue in her journal, or for her to even leave her journal around in the first place where anyone could find it.  It was almost like she wanted to be punished and be caught.”

He saw Steve shut his eyes in pain before Clint said, “Rogers, I promise you she’s alive.  But Ivan and Oksana…well, they are a special breed of sadistic fucks.  Natasha wronged them, and they’ve made this drawn-out plan to get revenge on her, for betraying them.  They want you to find her…Their plan is to kill you right in front of her, before finally killing her.  Our handlers and the Russians in Poseidon are so goddamn melodramatic - it’s their vicious, real-life version of Romeo and Juliet.  What they don’t realize though, is that I am still alive, and that I have help.” 

Steve was trying to calm himself down and looked at him in confusion at his last words. 

Clint continued, “I faked my death shortly after they took Natasha 21 months ago.  I knew they would never allow me to find her on the inside, so I had to try on the outside.  So, I changed my last name – it’s Barton now, by the way…no longer Romanoff.  And I gained some help on the ground, over the last couple of years.”  

Just then Clint nodded to the other SUV’s, and five individuals got out and walked over.  

Clint said, “Natasha and I planned to leave Poseidon together, and to do as much damage from the inside as possible before we did.  But then they took her.”

Steve looked at the men and woman who stood behind Clint ‘Barton’ a he continued, “Tasha and I found these mercenaries, looking to raise a little hell, while doing some good along the way.  They helped from the outside, while we tried to cause damage on the inside.  Together, we started dropping intel to the CIA, NSA, Homeland, and other foreign intelligence agencies.  We even corrupted a couple of Poseidon missions.  We felt like we were actually making some progress, until she was taken.”

Clint nodded to the individuals behind him and then turned back to Steve, “Rogers, this is the biggest rag tag group of mercenaries you’ll ever find.  This is Luke Cage, Jessica Jones, Matt Murdock, Frank Castle, and Danny Rand.” 

Steve looked at them.  They were all dressed in tactical gear with weapons attached on their vests and belts.  The woman cracked her knuckles, and the man named Frank, popped his neck while the rest just stared.  In all, they looked like they had absolutely zero fucks to give as they nodded at Steve, awaiting orders from Clint, who was clearly the General of this militia of mercenaries.

Steve nodded back as he listened to Clint, “We have tried everything to get her back without involving you.  Believe me, she wouldn’t like you being put in more danger from our lives again.  But there was no way around it.  With our handlers’ including you in their plan for revenge, we needed your help.”

“So, we got Loki to be our middle man.  He orchestrated his entire capture today, by you and your team.  He had made contacts with Poseidon, convincing them that he wanted to avenge Natasha’s death.  That he wanted to finally payback the FBI for kicking him out…He’s awfully good at selling people ridiculous stories when he wants to,” Clint scoffed.

Clint returned to his SUV to put on his own gear as Steve was processing all the information:

  * Natasha wasn’t dead. She was alive.
  * Clint thought Natasha was reckless before she was taken.
  * Clint left Poseidon, faked his death, changed his last name to Barton, and had been working with these five mercenaries to locate and save Natasha.
  * Clint and Natasha had been working to cause damage to Poseidon before she went missing.
  * Clint had been dropping intel to the CIA, NSA, and Homeland to help bring down Poseidon.
  * Poseidon planned to kill Steve, and then Natasha, tonight. And he would’ve  _ran_  right into the trap if Clint wouldn’t have stopped him. 
  * Loki was helping Clint with this plan and was trying to save her.
  * This entire day had been a set up.
  * Natasha had been held captive for over a year and a half. Steve could feel the bile in his throat rise at this thought.



“Holy fucking shit,” Steve muttered under his breath.  He committed everything to memory as overwhelming as it was, but he focused on the last piece of information that ran over and over in his mind – she’d be taken, and Clint couldn't find her...for 21 months.  He couldn’t begin to think deeper about it because he would be vomiting and in tears within a minute if he did.  So, he repressed it, shoving the churning bile in his stomach down with it.  He had to focus. 

Natasha was alive, and her literal life was depending on him and Clint and these five individuals behind them. 

Clint walked back over to Steve and said, “Now listen up Rogers, because I know your head is spinning and you just want to scream and cry and vomit and probably kill…believe me, I know…I know it all too well.”

Clint stared at Steve and continued, “I’m sorry for not telling you she was alive.  I really am, but our handlers had to believe you were desperate.  I couldn’t tell you Natasha was alive before tonight because if they caught any inkling that something was up, they would kill her before you got there.  So, Ivan and Oksana had people watching 18 months ago - as you got the photos, and as Wanda made all the confirmations, and as the FBI got their intel that a body had been located.  And they watched as you all had a memorial for Natasha.  They play the long game…that’s their entire way of life, so they needed to make sure her death was real to you.”

Steve understood the words Clint was saying, but he couldn’t believe how sinister it all was.  He knew Oksana and Ivan were radicals with their cause and mission, but to do this to Natasha?  It was unfathomable to him.  It was more than cruel.  It was evil.

Clint said, “They counted on the fact that you would go to the ends of the earth for her, if you found out she was alive. 

Again, Steve knew that what Clint was saying was true, and he would have blindly followed any tip about Natasha being alive.  That hope he felt creeping in before was filling him with a fire and determination now.  Natasha was alive. 

Steve was going to find her and never let go. 

Clint said, “Loki was the perfect ‘mole’ for Poseidon.  They knew they couldn’t just send intel to the FBI because your team would never let you go off on a rescue mission on your own.  Loki assured me he could play double agent for us and Poseidon, and he did.  Ivan and Oksana  _finally_ budged, indicating to Loki recently that he would get his revenge soon.  They told him today was the day they wanted him captured, and they told him what to say…and nothing more.  But I knew where she would be today…and now, here we are.  Loki pulled the string when he let himself be captured, and the plan was set in motion early this morning.”

Clint grinned and said, “As dramatic as he can be, Loki is quite talented.  I’m assuming he antagonized you enough that you probably beat his face in.  I felt that way around him a few times…the man won’t shut up.”

Steve didn’t grin back.  He was too lost in Clint’s words and his anger, “So, when he finally told you Natasha was alive and could be found where you met her two years ago, you ran like Ivan and Oksana knew you would.  They had one of their people waiting outside the FBI building to let them know the plan was in motion when you left.”

Before Steve could ask anything, Clint finished, “They don’t have any soldiers on this road.  They only had one watching at the FBI.  We’ve already scoped out the campgrounds.  There are 20 Russians there with Natasha.  So, when you arrive in your SUV, you have to appear like you are coming straight from the FBI, never having seen us.  If they suspect  _anything_  before you have a chance to takeout the gunman in the cabin, they’ll put a bullet through you and Natasha before we even have a chance to save her.”

Steve had been given so many missions in his life.  He’d come out alive from every one of them.  This by far, was the most fucked up version of a mission he’d ever heard.  And it stabbed and tore at his heart, if he really let himself think of what had happened to Natasha.  But he didn’t right now.  Because he was a soldier and an agent, and he still loved her with every ounce of his being.

So, no matter how obscure the circumstances of this mission were, the fact remained the same - it was a  _mission_.  He was a survivor from his childhood, then a soldier, then a captain, and then an FBI Agent. 

He would complete this mission just like he’d been completing them his entire life.

Finally finding a little clarity, Steve asked, “And the remaining Russians outside of the cabin?”

Clint smiled at his question and said, “That’s what the five of them are here for.  They want to see Poseidon burn too…And they really like blowing shit up.  Don’t worry about the other gunmen.  We’ll take care of them after you’re in the cabin.”

He paused for a second and said, “Rogers, one last thing.  Natasha has been held for 21 months, and god knows where.  I hate myself for it, and I know you probably want to kill me for it too.  But when you find her, I can’t even imagine what she’s going to be like or what she’s endured.  She’s probably not going to go willingly with you because she may not recognize you at first.  You may have to fight her or sedate her to save her.”

Clint handed Steve a syringe filled with what he assumed was a sedative. 

“You think that I’m going to drug her, Clint?” Steve asked, raising his voice. 

Clint raised his voice back at Steve and said, “I don’t think anything, Rogers.  I  _know_  that you will do what you have to in order to get her out alive.  I am telling you I  _trust_  you to save Natasha.  Can you say the same to me?”

Steve never thought the words trust and Clint would be in the same thought again.  But he knew Clint was right.  If Natasha really had been held over the last 21 months, she would fight anyone trying to help because she wouldn’t know the difference.

So, he swallowed his anger, pride, and the literal acid forming in his stomach from everything and said, “I trust you, Clint.  Now let’s save Natasha.”

Clint nodded with a smirk on his face.  He hadn’t expected this to go as smoothly as it did with Rogers. 

But Clint also knew when Steve and Natasha were involved in a situation, things often didn’t go according to plan.  They’re love and devotion had a way of bringing each other back to one another.  Clint remembered telling Natasha when she left the FBI and Rogers seven years ago, that they’d never take her back or be willing to see her again. 

He was wrong. 

Loki forgave her.  And understanding so much more now, than he did long ago, Clint suspected her old team would forgive her too. 

As for Steve…Clint knew Rogers would do anything he could for her, and put himself in any amount of danger still, after all this time. 

He watched Steve get in his SUV alone and drive off on his mission.  Always a soldier.  Always her protector – or at least trying to be. 

Clint laughed to himself.  He had tried for so long early on, to try and hate Steve Rogers.  But now, he realized that Steve was actually the only other man in this world that loved his sister as much as he did.  That shared connection, as unwanted as it was by both men, created a trust between them tonight to save her.

Clint gave the nod to his team as they got back into their SUV’s.  They would trail Rogers with their lights off, to go undetected in the night.  When Rogers approached, they would already be parked behind him, off the road, before the campground entrance.  They would spread out and take out the gunmen around the cabin as Rogers saved her. 

If all went well, both Rogers and Clint would have Natasha back within an hour.

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That one hurt. I cried, writing the cabin scene...a lot.
> 
> Your continued support and encouragement just mean so much to me as we keep trucking along.
> 
> I love hearing from readers, so let me know your thoughts or come follow me on Tumblr @eightieskat if you'd like to chat about anything with the story, Marvel, or anything else. Have a great day!!
> 
> Cheers!~~Kat


	14. I Will Listen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Earning that E rating in this one…Quick note at the end.
> 
> I hope you enjoy the Chapter and Image Board below!

Memories & Reality

I do not own any of this or any part of Marvel or the MCU

Chapter 14 – I Will Listen

* * *

 **Present Day –** Driving

Sounds filled the three SUVs. 

Ammunition clips cocked into the metal, gun holsters.  Knuckles and necks being popped.  Gum being chewed.  Tactical gear being brushed against the seat, as knees bounced in anticipation. 

The team of five mercenaries sat in their separate vehicles, as they listened to each other talk over their comms, all while staring at Barton and Rogers during their heated exchange.     

“20 bucks, says the lumberjack hits Barton in the dick,” Jessica Jones said, staring out the window with a cold expression, slowly chewing her gum. 

“Why do you always have to talk about men getting hit where it hurts the most, Jones?  Barton is getting punched in the face, just watch…” Matt Murdock answered, sitting beside her in their SUV they arrived in. 

Frank Castle gave a slight grunt from his vehicle, “Does it really fucking matter?  Every second we waste, are seconds we could be taking out Russians.”

Danny’s knee kept bouncing right next to Castle, “I agree, Frank.  I just want to get to the cabin, so we can move out,” as Castle cut him off, “I told you, don’t call me Frank in the field, Rand.  Cut the personal bullshit when we’re about to blow some of these fuckers’ heads off.”

“Rand, be quiet.  Seriously, all of you…be quiet.  Barton is running this, and he says we need this Rogers guy, so we’re here.”  Luke Cage paused before he adding, “Seriously though, Jones.  You  _do_  have a problem with wanting to see men get hit in their junk.”

Clint nodded at them through their windows, and they stepped out of the vehicles as they listened to Rogers threaten Barton’s life before he relented and agreed to the entire FUBAR’d (Fucked up beyond any recognition) plan of theirs.  It’s a shot in the dark…in the literal dark, and they all knew it. 

But…they all wanted to take down Russian terrorists…or spies?  They all weren’t exactly sure which category these criminals fell into.  But they had Barton’s sister, and Barton had been working with them for a couple years now.  He’d proven to be an adequate leader of their side missions.  But this mission had the most risk, and least likely outcome.  Again, they all knew it, yet here they stood.  

Rogers nodded to them and got back into his vehicle, driving off as they retreated to theirs. 

“You didn’t take the bet, Murdock.  I’m not paying you 20 bucks because the bearded hunk hit Barton in the jaw,” Jones said with all snark. 

Clint got in the SUV, sitting next to Cage.  Luke looked at him and could see the nerves and fear running over Barton’s face.  “You sure Rogers can handle this, Barton?  Man seemed pretty shook up about your sister.” 

“Yeah, well.  The circumstances would shake anyone up…especially people that love her.  He can handle it though.  He can handle anything for Natasha…Trust me.”

The sounds of Castle’s grunt and Jones’ gum popping, came through the comms as Cage asked, “You sure,  _you_  can handle this?  Last time I checked, Rogers wasn’t the only one having to handle the personal side of this fucked up situation.”

Now Clint’s knee was bouncing.  This was it.  This was when they would get Natasha back.  He didn’t directly answer Luke’s question as he clenched his fists and moved his jaw from where Steve had hit him.  All he said were three words with zero waiver or question behind them.

“Let’s roll out.”

* * *

 **Present Day –** FBI HQ

The agents in the conference room were shell-shocked.

They listened to Maria and Loki’s revelation that Clint was actually the one helping both of them. 

With Clint’s help, Loki had set in motion the events of the day, and as a result, sent Steve to try and save Natasha.  With Clint’s help, Maria learned and now shared, vital intel on Poseidon.  And finally, and most surprisingly with Clint’s help, the individuals from different agencies all sat in the same room together, for the first time in almost five years. 

“Clint is your source?” Fury asked, “How do you know that you can trust him?” 

Maria responded, “I wasn’t sure, but the information he’s given us has checked out.  And it seems like he has been leaking information anonymously to the CIA and NSA too.  During his last contact with me, he said if we heard from him again after this week, he would hopefully be able to help more.  I guess he was telling me if he survived with Natasha and Steve, then he’d be willing to help in a much bigger way.”

Wanda added, “Clint is Natasha’s blood.  As much as each one of us has dealt with in life, we cannot even fathom the horrors they’ve lived through.  When they didn’t have anything else, they always had each other.  So, for Clint to come to both of you, and now Steve too…it says something.  We should trust him…We need to trust him.” 

Bucky added, “It says he’s on his last leg and couldn’t get to Romanoff on his own, so he pulled Steve into this mess with the help of Loki.”  Bucky glared at Loki as Wanda tried to hold his hand, but he was so worried and angry, that he pulled away as he stood up. 

Barnes pointed his finger towards the FBI’s newest asset, “You listen to me, you son of a bitch.  I don’t care how much help Fury thinks you can be, or how much help you actually turn out to be…If my brother doesn’t make it back from this fucked up personal mission of his, in one piece, I will see to it that you beg to be in prison over being around me.”

“Barnes,” Fury’s voice cut him off, but Bucky was already moving.  “I need some air before I explode.”  Bucky walked out of the room as Wanda looked worriedly at her boss.  For once, Loki didn’t retort.  This whole thing was about getting Natasha back, but he knew enough that Bucky’s number one concern was getting his brother back first…alive and in one piece.  Even he wasn’t cold hearted enough to not empathize for the brooding man. 

No one said anything else, so after a few seconds, Fury said, “Maximoff, go get your husband and calm him down.  We’re going to need him…and his brother is going to need him.  And as for everyone else - we’re not going to just sit around here, doing nothing this late at night.  So, let’s all team up, and I do mean  _everyone_ ,” looking at Loki and then everyone else. 

The task force nodded and he said, “First, try to figure out where Rogers and Natasha were two years ago.  Second, use all the sources you have to find out what you can on Poseidon.  Finally, and most importantly, try to find any leads on where and when this potential attack could be in the US.  We’ll reconvene in three hours.  Let’s move.”

Everyone scrambled as Loki’s cuffs were removed and an ankle bracelet was put on him.  He’d stay in this room for now until Fury figured out more details on his house arrest. 

Wanda stayed behind for a minute. 

“Don’t you need to go tranquilize your husband or something, Mrs. Barnes?” Loki couldn’t help but grin, but she found no humor in his words.  “Loki, I have a feeling Fury is going to want you and I working together in my lab, so could you cut the sarcasm and cynicism back by half?  And yes, I’m going to go help James calm down, because he’s upset about his brother being in danger…very serious danger, in case you forgot.”

Loki flicked his hands in the air, “Yes, yes…the Barnes and Rogers brotherly bond.  How could I ever forget?  Those two make Donny and Marie Osmond look like arch nemesis.”  Wanda had to work at hiding her smirk at his words.  She hated that he could still make her laugh when she really wanted to hit him.  That was Loki though. 

And he was right. 

Wanda had loved her brother despite his disease and struggles before his death.  She still loved him.  But Bucky and Steve weren’t just brothers.  They were best friends, and had been through everything in life together.  So, she knew Bucky was scared to death for Steve.  But part of him was dealing with being furious at him for what Steve had been keeping from Bucky over the last few years. 

Ironically, the only other sibling bond, that she could think of in her life that compared to the brothers, and maybe even beat Steve and Bucky with closeness at times, was Clint and Natasha. 

She shook her head, thinking of horrible shared life experiences, forming deeply rooted bonds of trust and familial love.  What a family she married into.  And she wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“Do I detect that I said something right now, that the brilliant Wanda Maximoff didn’t hate?” Loki asked. 

He pulled her from her thoughts, “Loki, that’s not why I stayed back.  Yes, I’m going to find James.  Yes,  _you_ are going to help all of us make sure Natasha  _and_ Steve make it here safely…but besides that, I had a question.”

Loki’s eyebrow arched.  She still knew how to add the hook, raising his interest, “Go on, my dear.”

She rolled her eyes, “You said you met up with Natasha awhile back, and you made peace with her.  When and where did you guys meet up at?  I figured it was of no significance, and you were just making your point with how the two of you forgave each other…but I was just curious.”    

Loki had glint in his eye as he grinned, “Well, I don’t know if I’d say it didn’t have  _any_ significance…it just doesn’t help or have anything to do with saving Steve and Natasha now.  But I do think when and where we met was more than  _significant._ ” 

Okay, if Wanda got a reluctant kick out of Loki being able to make her grin (kind of) before, she did not miss this side of him.  Rolling her eyes at his vague and questioning statement, she asked, “Okay Loki, I’ll bite.   _Why_ was it significant?  Where did you see Natasha at?”

“We didn’t plan it.  We both just happened to be there…watching from afar…I guess great minds think alike.  I saw her in Brooklyn…about five years ago.”  Loki stared at her, seeing if she caught on.

She did.

The wheels turned in her head, replaying his words before she spoke with wide-eyes and a dry throat, “Loki, was it about five years ago, or was it five years ago on James’ and my anniversary?”

“Still a smart cookie, Wanda…I know you thought the last time everyone in this room was together was five years ago at your wedding, without Natasha and me, of course.  But it turns out we were there…you just didn’t know it.” 

Speechless.  Shocked.  Surprised. 

All of those words somehow described how Wanda was feeling right now, yet didn’t even begin to describe her emotions right now. 

Natasha was the love of Steve’s life, and a person who Wanda thought would always be her sister-in-law someday.  And Loki was a man who was her best friend at Quantico and the years that followed.  And they were both near and watching, on her and James’ wedding day. 

* * *

 **_2 Years Ago -_ ** _Cabin_

_Natasha’s gun was still in the cabin._

_That was good, Steve immediately thought, as a little panic retreated inside him.  It meant she didn’t try to leave permanently.  Instead, she ran out the door after he’d taken his pain and anger out on her over the last half hour.  That worried him even more somehow, because she wasn’t thinking clearly._

_He ran out the door as the chilled air stung his face._

_The sky was dark grey as Steve looked out at the landscape from the wooden steps of the cabin.  Staring into sheets of rain, the lightning had increased, and he cursed himself for what had transpired in the loft, with his harsh words causing Natasha to run off in a frantic state._

_Steve jumped at a crack of thunder ringing through sky and cutting through the white noise in his head.  Concern for her safety officially overwhelmed any other emotion inside of him.  It had been only a minute since she left, and he instantly took in the surroundings, trying to figure out which way Natasha ran off to._

_Another string of lightning preceded a loud and thunderous boom, leaving a ringing in his ear.  The storm was getting stronger._

_Steve knew Natasha was more than capable of surviving any of mother nature’s attacks, probably even more so than him, but it didn’t stop his jaw from clenching.  Natasha was right when she said it to him the night before - deep down, he always felt like her eternal protector.  She often didn’t need it, as independent and strong as she was, but she wanted it from him.  And he always wanted to give her that feeling of protection, unlike the feelings he had just projected toward her._

_The details began to emerge in the surroundings._

_To the left of the porch, a brown bush had a twig snapped off.  She brushed by it in a flurry because Steve found her boot tracks next to it, quickly being filled in with mud and rain, disappearing before him.  More worry and now panic coursed through him as time became precious to track her._

_Her tracks went off to the east, towards a wooded timber behind the campground, that looked utterly haunted with the flashes of white lightning and threatening cracks of thunder hovering over it._

_Steve looked around, and with the bad weather and the early morning hour, no one was awake or around.  If anyone in the few mobile campers would happen to be this early of a riser, they wouldn’t be able to tell what was happening under the rain anyway._

_Steve didn’t even process the thought before he felt his feet moving._

_A few seconds passed before he was fully running, with mud flicking on his boots and up his pant legs._

_A familiar desperation started filling him as he chased the disappearing trail.  ‘Please let me find her…she has to know that last night was real for me too,’ Steve kept repeating in his head.  Steve’s run turned into an all-out-sprint, for about a quarter of a mile, until the muddy, open grounds stopped and met the wooded landscape before him._

_Steve moved under the shelter of the towering trees.  He’d been outside for only a minute, and he was soaked to the bone.  He shook out his hair as water dripped off of his face and beard.  Moving under the trees, he began to catch a little relief from the downpour, now only feeling random and cold rain drops on his already soaked clothes as they trickled through foliage above him._

_The downpour outside of the wooded sheltering, was so loud and constant at the moment, that it almost sounded like he was standing behind a waterfall.  Steve wiped the water from his eyes as a chill ran over him, but his desperation and worry overpowered the cold feeling in his body._

_“Natasha,” Steve started yelling, barely being able to hear himself through the storm.  Mother Nature had a voice and was using it._

_Louder, Steve yelled, causing his own voice to crack, “Natasha!  Please!  Where are you?”_

_His feet were moving again, almost automatically as he continued to yell.  The snapping of the wooded floor covering crunched under his boots._

_It wasn’t as cold as it was the night before when he arrived, but the rain made it seem that way.  Regardless, any amount of time in this weather was too long for someone.  It wasn’t that large of an area, but it felt as big as The Sierra Nevada at the moment because he couldn’t find her, and he felt lost as soon as she ran out of the cabin._

_Steve continued yelling her name as he approached the other side of the small timber.  The tree covering was coming to an end, and he couldn’t find her on his first pass through.  He would double back once he got to the end._

_But just as he thought about where else to look, Steve saw something._

_Through the heavy sheet of rain just south of the tree coverage, he could see a dark object about 50 feet away, right above the bank of a narrow river._

_Steve had forgotten about the river the night before when he was driving to the cabin, but he remembered fishing here as a child with his mom and Bucky._

_“Natasha?” Steve yelled loudly, as he approached her slowly…once again getting drenched as he moved back into the rainfall._

_He saw her slowly turn to see him behind her, but then she turned back, staring at the river again._

_At first, he thought it was the rain coming down heavily that caused her to appear like she was moving, but as he got closer to Natasha, Steve saw that she was trembling, both from being cold and from crying._

_He moved in front of her as the rain relentlessly hit their heads and shoulders, running down the rest of their bodies.  Natasha looked up at him.  He could barely hear her through the rain and her shaky voice, but he made the words out, “All I do is ruin you, Steve…I am so sorry, you have to believe me…if not anything else, you have to believe me when I say I am so, **so**  sorry for everything I have done to you.”_

_Trembling turned to shaking.  Crying turned to sobbing.  Steve’s worry turned to fear._

_Steve had seen her incredibly upset, even hysterical at times when they’d fought.  He’d seen her crying…sobbing even, many times._

_But this was something else.  There was a desolate feel to her words that had him scared to his core._

_His pain and anger be damned._

_Steve immediately wrapped himself around her as his large arms surrounded her back and held her head against his chest.  There wasn’t a physical warmth to the embrace.  There couldn’t be with the temperature and rain, but there was a comfort._

_They were both soaking wet, as he held her tight and spoke loudly enough in her ear, breaking through the sound of rain and thunder, “Shhh, Natasha I’m sorry for what I said back at the cabin.  I want…I need to hear what you have to say…I always have and always will…I will always listen…you should know by now that the only time I am ruined is when I am without you.”_

_Feeling her body give out to her cries a little, Steve’s instinct kicked in, and he picked her up in his arms, and carried her away from the river, off of the grassy bank, and back under the tree shelter of the timber before setting her down again._

_Natasha’s hair was dripping freely from the sides as he reached up and moved her wet curls behind her ears.  She looked up to him again with those beautiful green eyes that were soaked both with tears and rain.  Her lip trembled again, and he felt the tug at his heart as he lowered his head._

_Steve’s lips found hers instantly and they both felt a surge of warmth in the midst of the cold surrounding them._

_This kiss wasn’t filled with the want and need from last night.  It was filled with something more.  Something that only the two of them have only ever been able to explain and feel with each other._

_The longing and pain from the absence in their lives came barreling through the cold air along with that ‘something more.’  It was the love they had both declared last night that was warming them as their lips pressed against each other._

_Natasha felt a couple of drops on her cheeks as she pulled away from their kiss and looked up at him._

_The droplets weren’t from the cold rain._

_And Natasha wasn’t the only one crying anymore._

_She felt Steve’s warm tears move down her cheek as he looked into her eyes, “I just found you again last night, please come back to the cabin.  I’m sorry, Natasha.  I can’t lose you again.”_

_Natasha nodded, taking a breath, hearing his words.  Steve followed her movement and took a breath too, feeling a little relief and placing a soft kiss to her temple.  He pulled her slowly back through the trees, walking side by side, as his arm encircled her waist around her jacket._

_Steve and Natasha without talking as the sounds of twigs and leaves and bark crunched beneath their shoes.  They reached the edge of the timber, seeing the clearing to the cabin…but only barely through the storm._

_Natasha started shivering, and Steve noticed a hint of blue peeking around her lips.  He grabbed her hands and frowned, seeing the same coloring at her fingertips, and then he noticed the bright redness peeking at her earlobes and the tip of her nose._

_Steve felt nothing but his love and need to protect her in that moment and scooped his arms around her shoulders and under her knees as he carried her, across the muddy and sparse campground, all the rest of the way back to the cabin._

_He knew she could have made it back on her own, but his need to have her close to him was incredibly powerful at the moment.  They got back to the cabin as Steve climbed the two rickety stairs to the porch and paused as he got to the door.  She looked up at him, shivering, and reached down with one of her hands, opening the door for him so he wouldn’t put her down yet.  Her need to be held by him was equally profound._

_He carried her into the cabin, and the silence in the air was perforated by the rain and thunder.  But all Steve could hear was their breathing as Natasha’s became a little uneven as her teeth began to chatter._

_“Come on, we need to get you out of these clothes…you’re freezing, Nat.”_

_It wasn’t even 12 hours ago, when he was helping her get her clothes **on,**  to stop the same effect – her freezing. _

_Steve sat her down in the chair, that he’d kicked away the night before when he’d made space for them on the table._

_“You…too…” Natasha said through her shivering, “You’re…cold…too.”_

_She was shaking a little as she tried to reach for his soaked shirt under his jacket.  Steve’s forehead creased…What a sad site the two of them made.  All fire and passion last night.  All anger and pain this morning, trying to dig into the raw emotions of their past.  And now, they’re freezing, wet, and trying to help each other undress to stay warm.  Seesaw of emotions indeed, as Steve told her when he saw her tattoos and scars._

_Steve tipped her chin up with his hand, stilling her movement as he looked straight into her eyes.  He bent over to kiss her head, “Nat, don’t fight me…Please, just let me take care of you right now.”  Natasha was too cold to challenge him, so she nodded and dropped her hand from his shirt._

_Steve took off her jacket first and set it on the back of another chair.  Kneeling down on the ground, he slipped off her boots, then her socks one-by-one.  He gripped her cold, bare feet, tight in his hands as he tried to warm them, but it was no use right now.  His hands were clammy, and her feet were like icicles._

_Moving his hands up her soaking wet pants, he hovered over her zipper for a moment.  It wasn’t sexual, but their proximity right now was dripping, literally and figuratively, with affection, and he needed to collect himself for a second._

_“Hurrry up…Soldier.”  Her shaky words broke through his thoughts as he gave the slightest of grins.  Even though she was freezing and shivering, she was still calling him Soldier._

_His fingers reached and unbuttoned her jeans, pulling the zipper down as the sound cut through the air.  She lifted her bottom as he peeled the denim down, revealing her paled skin on her legs._

_Touching her, Steve realized her legs felt the same as her feet – freezing cold.  He leaned over and placed a kiss on both thighs, watching as goosebumps followed on her skin.  He grabbed the hem of her shirt as he stood up, lifting it over her wet hair, leaving her only in her sports bra and underwear._

_He laid out her clothes on the table and took his own jacket and shirt off in seconds, hanging them over the other chairs._

_Her shivering became more furious as she looked at him, holding her hands together in her lap.  Steve quickly took in everything in the room, trying to figure out his next steps.  He walked over to her and knelt down at her level so they could look at each other eye-to-eye.  Cupping her cheek and pressing into her thigh with his hand as he kneeled, Steve said, “Just stay here, Nat.  Give me a couple minutes, ok?”_

_And then, Steve was no longer moving slowly._

_He kicked off his shoes immediately and threw his socks on the ground, followed by peeling off his own water-logged jeans.  They plopped to the floor with a wet thud as he ran up the stairs in his boxers and grabbed all the blankets and pillows off the bed and carried them down, laying them in front of the fireplace._

_Steve found a couple of extra blankets in a closet, and used the pillows off of the couch to pile up on top of the bedding from upstairs.  Laying everything out on the floor, in front of the fireplace, a makeshift bed was created within two minutes of taking his jeans off._

_He took stock of the dry firewood in the cabin, seeing there was more than enough to get through the storm today, and he started loading the fireplace with the logs.  Grabbing a couple of old newspapers off the coffee table he’d moved out of the way, Steve place them under the firewood to use as kindling._

_He stood up and looked around and went to the kitchen.  Searching cupboard after cupboard until he found what he was looking for – matchsticks and lighter fluid.  If he had to, he would’ve started a fire by hand, but he was relieved with their time constraints, that he didn’t have to._

_He put a little fluid on the logs and lit a match.  Within another minute, the fireplace came roaring to life as Steve felt heat radiating immediately from it.  The air started to feel warmer and soothing around him.  He grabbed the metal guard, placing it in front of the fire to keep any ash and sparks from flying out of it before looking back to Natasha._

_She was staring at him, still shivering, but hadn’t moved from the chair.  She was completely naked, except her bra and underwear.  Steve stood up quickly, went to the kitchen area to grab a couple of glasses of water and sat them down next to the bedding on the floor._

_Steve moved quickly, back to Natasha, tipping her head up again as her whole body trembled now._

_“Still, so…cold, Steve.”  It was all she could muster out._

_For her to be as vocal as she was, she had to be completely freezing.  Steve knew it as he lifted her arms, removing her sodden sports bra next.  He threw it on the table, along with his boxer briefs, and stood her up, as he moved her black and damp, cotton underwear down her icy legs.  Natasha stepped out of them as he bent over to place them over the chair, she had just been sitting in._

_“Come here, Nat,” Steve said in a hushed tone, not letting another second pass._

_Both completely naked.  Both extremely cold.  Both needing to feel each other right now._

_Natasha moved into his embrace as his strong hands wound around her waist, running up and down her back.  The fire became stronger as he repeated the movement with her leaning into every part of him that she could touch._

_Steve shut his eyes and breathed through the panic and tears he felt forming, as his fingers ran over the knife wounds, burn marks, and bullet hole scars again on her back.  He knew he’d probably find other new discoveries on her soon, but right now he pushed through all of that fear and worry as he focused on the need to warm her up._

_Lifting her up gently under her behind, Steve tried to create as much warmth as he could.  Natasha responded, wrapping her legs around him with the little strength she had in the moment.  Steve held her against his chest as her arms hung loosely over his shoulders.  She lowered her head to his neck and kissed it, before she whispered, “I love you so much, Steve.”  He paused his movement as he heard her words._

_Something about the moment, with them completely bare, in a cold and dark place away from the world, made him break a little.  He couldn’t hold back the tears any longer as he felt a couple roll down, with one even falling onto her back…right onto the two-headed eagle tattoo._

_Steve made his way over to the bed on the floor he’d created for them, and knelt down with all his strength, lowering her onto the blankets and pillows.  The fire had become strong enough to engulf the logs completely as they burned.  The heat was pouring out now, and started to comfort them._

_“Feels…so…good,” Natasha whispered._

_Steve laid down, right beside her, and lifted the remaining blanket and quilted comforter over their unclothed bodies, immediately feeling the heat encapsulate them._

_Steve grabbed Natasha’s hip and pulled himself near her so he was only an inch from her face.  Wrapping his arms around her once again, he traced the uneven patterns on her back, made up of soft skin and raised scars._

_Natasha finally stopped shivering as she nudged her knee and thigh between his, completely entangling themselves with one another.  As the cold continued to leave their bodies, and while the fire continued to burn, their breathing finally returned to a more normal rhythm._

_Natasha felt like she’d cried every possible tear in her body in the last hour, and Steve felt that if Natasha started telling whatever horror stories that were behind those tattoos and scars, he would be the one sobbing soon, but he had to listen to her...he meant it – he would always listen.  And very soon, he would have the chance._

* * *

**_12 Years Ago_ ** _– Wanda & Bucky_

_It was five minutes to 7:00 pm._

_James told her meet him at the hill between the dormitories on campus.  She didn’t really know what to wear, so she settled for jeans and a sweater with ballet flats.  She didn’t know what he had in store for her either, but he told her that it would be casual, and she was relieved at that._

_Wanda was nervous enough, realizing today how much she really liked James Buchanan Barnes.  The trust exercise, and the words of encouragement from Steve finally helped her stop being in denial.  There was no denying it now…She had a crush, and a big one at that.  So, she didn’t need the added pressure of anything fancy on top of her already nervous feelings - she just wanted to spend time with him._

_Wanda looked at her watch again…6:58._

_Okay, she knew that James wasn’t necessarily a morning person, if he had the choice, but he was in the military…so, she knew he was punctual.  She drummed her fingers at her sides anxiously, in between running her fingers through her long hair._

_Bucky saw her as he exited his dorm, at the top of the hill and told himself to calm down.  But he couldn’t help it.  She was just so damn beautiful, and smart…and out of his league.  Steve and his mom would yell at him for thinking it, but that’s how he felt.  It was fitting he had to look up at her right now on the hill, because that’s kind of how he saw her – on a pedestal.  He’d been trying to get Wanda to give him a chance…pretty much since the beginning at Quantico, so the fact that she was finally agreeing to a date with him…yeah, he told himself to calm down, **again.**_

_Bucky made his way up the hill, carrying his canvas cooler, and another bag, along with a backpack, as he told himself, ‘Keep it simple, Barnes.  Steve thought this was a good idea…I’m not trying to pick her up, I’m trying to get to know her.’_

_Needing advice on women from his brother, was not something Bucky was used to.  Flirting, talking to women in general, even picking up girls in a bar when he was more of a ladies’ man…sure, Bucky was your go to guy on advice and having any sort of game._

_But this…Wanda had caught him off guard from the get go.  She challenged him, and called him out on his behavior, and he had to be honest with himself…he loved the chase.  She was just so alluring._

_He liked her.  Bucky **really** liked her, so when she’d agreed finally, to a date, the nerves followed. _

_And the tables turned all of a sudden, with Bucky needing help for once.  Steve gave him the idea of the hill – it was simple, had a pretty view, and close by – no fluff.  Sam agreed, telling him, “You’re not trying to pick her up, Bucky.  You’re trying to get to know her.”  Steve agreed and Bucky knew they were right.  He just hoped that Wanda liked what she learned when she did start getting to know him better._

_Wanda heard him before she saw him, “I’m really glad it didn’t rain…I’m not going to lie, I didn’t have a back-up plan…,” Bucky joked._

_She smiled and turned around, seeing him carrying the bags towards her, “I would have thought you would have had 20 back-up plans with as big of a flirt as you can be, James.”_

_Wanda meant it as a joke, but Bucky frowned.  He didn’t want her to see him like that…but he pushed through it.  “So, I thought we’d keep it simple.  How’s a picnic sound?  I even have a small radio in the bag, so we can listen to music, have some food…I packed some wine too…I don’t know, I thought the sunset and stars would be nice…as we talked.”_

_Wanda grinned.  He was nervous.  James was **really** nervous as he rambled on.  He couldn’t have been cuter, “I like picnics, James…I think it sounds lovely.”_

_He set out the blanket, and she started getting some of the food and drink out as he turned on the radio.  The sat down…a little awkwardly on the blanket as Bucky opened the wine and poured some into plastic cups for them.  Wanda’s nerves threw her off as she made another comment about Bucky’s flirty side, “So, is this how you wine and dine all the ladies, James?”_

_Bucky frowned again, this time Wanda noticing, “I’m sorry…did I say something, James?”_

_He didn’t want to screw this up before it even started, but Bucky had to try, “No…no, Wanda.  I probably deserve that comment.  God, knows I have wined and dined women in the past…God, that came out wrong.”_

_He huffed in frustration, glancing down, as she looked at him questioningly while he tried again, “Okay…let me try again.  I know I came off as a flirt, and you have every right to be skeptical of me…of what you think some of my past behavior with girls has been.  But, that’s not what this is, Wanda…I’m not trying anything here.”_

_Bucky took a breath to look into her eyes finally, “Believe me, this is new territory for me.  I’ve never taken a woman I’ve liked on a picnic before.  Hell, I’ve never liked someone like you before.  I don’t want anything from tonight except just to spend time with you and get to know you.”_

_Wanda understood completely.  And she was leaning over toward him, before his nerves took over again, and brushed her lips on his for a sweet and tender kiss._

_Bucky was so caught off guard that he almost spilled the wine, but he recovered and kissed her back before they broke away from each other a few seconds later.  The kiss wasn’t steamy or sexy.  But it was perfect as their first…And they both felt that way apparently, as they both sat there with blushes on their cheeks._

_Bucky was speechless, and Wanda grinned, “I figured I’d get that out of the way, James.  I just want to spend time with you too.  Now we don’t have to be nervous, wondering if there’s going to be an end of night kiss or not…And I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean anything about my silly jokes with you and other women.  I guess I’m nervous too.”_

_Her admitting that she felt the same as Bucky was the relief in tension they needed.  They both felt a little calmer and laughed at the situation…and started truly enjoying their evening together, “James, I really do think this is a lovely date…Thank you,” Wanda said._

_Bucky grinned at her, “You know, Wanda.  I gotta tell you…you’re the only person who calls me James where I actually like it.  I more than like it, coming from you.  It’s funny though because my mom only called me it growing up, when I was in trouble.  And Steve…well, he only calls me by my real name when he’s trying to irritate me now.”_

_Wanda **really**  liked his real name, and knew she liked the man behind it too.  And she really,  **really**  liked that she was the only one that called him by it.  It was their thing, and she’d never realized it until now. _

_She smiled at him as she knew they were going to have a wonderful evening together…Wanda was always good with her intuition and trusting her gut feelings.  She hoped that was the case tonight, because her intuition was telling her that this would be the first of many dates with James Buchanan Barnes._

* * *

**_12 Years Ago_ ** _– Steve & Natasha_

_Two minutes passed since Clint left the bar._

_Steve sat back down next to Natasha, and the bartender came over to their booth, “These two are on the house…looks like you might need them.”  Steve gave a half-hearted smile to her as she walked off, leaving them with their whiskey and bourbon, and the aftermath of what just occurred with Clint._

_They were sitting far enough in the back that no words or specifics could be heard by anyone, but the bartender apparently could tell how tense the discussion was.  How could she not tell…with Clint and Steve getting in each other’s faces and with Clint exiting quickly after._

_So much for a care-free, easy-going weekend to only enjoy each other, and hopefully get to know Natasha’s brother._

_Natasha ran her index finger around the rim of her glass, watching the bronze liquor ripple as a couple tears fell into the liquid._

_Steve looked at her with a pained expression, knowing he didn’t fully understand half…hell more than half of what just occurred between her and her brother.  He felt awful, and like this was somehow his fault because he’d encouraged her to have the three of them meet.  This weekend was supposed to be about them and was certainly not supposed to cause Natasha any heartache._

_When people met from different worlds, under regular circumstances, a lot of things could go wrong - miscommunications, misunderstandings, awkward bouts of silence.  Despite that, tonight…both Steve and Natasha had convinced themselves, that the idea of their worlds colliding would go okay, because Steve and Clint had Natasha in common._

_Well, there weren’t any miscommunications or misunderstandings._

_Clint stood his ground very firmly, and made his points crystal clear to his sister and to Steve, even though Steve didn’t understand all the reasons behind those points.  Steve could see that Clint was angry, and lonely, and maybe even jealous of Natasha’s relationship with him…that he and Natasha managed to build while at Quantico._

_But it ran deeper than surface level feelings.  The way Clint said to Natasha at the end, that she’d be “forced to comeback,” and that this “wasn’t her life…it never was,” caused a chill to run down Steve’s spine.  He wasn’t saying those things out of only anger or jealousy then…he was stating them as if he knew they were a fact._

_Natasha on the other hand was lost in her head, not even realizing Steve had placed his hand on her thigh, trying to comfort her.  Her dream she often had was playing in her head right now…where the people in her life, before the FBI, would tell her repeatedly,_ _“Yelena, you stupid child.  Don’t you know, you’ll never be free?”_

_She felt stupid and embarrassed and pissed off as she asked herself, ‘How exactly did you think this would go?’_

_All she’s ever wanted was freedom from the fucked-up existence she was forced into.  She’d tried to succumb, when she was young.  And even though she fought against her handlers wishes through her teenage years, she still ended up complying…until she turned 18._

_That word…Comply.  It had such a negative connotation to Natasha._

_The orphanage told her to comply.  Her handlers told her to comply.  And now, her brother was trying to tell her the same thing – comply with your reality, that you had no choice or say in.  And that’s all she’s wanted – was a choice and her own say…her own freedom._

_But Natasha wasn’t completely selfish with her dream…she wanted it for her brother too.  Or at least she wanted **him**  to realize he did have a choice.  That another life could be possible for him as well. _

_And this life she’s found with the FBI and Steve, wasn’t meant to hurt Clint…no, she only hoped to show him that another life was worth fighting for.  Steve helped her realize that._

_Thinking of how much her outlook on life and people have changed since meeting Steve, caused a pang in Natasha’s heart.  She knew what she felt for him, now more than ever…as she finally realized that he was running his thumb over her thigh._

_Natasha’s one ounce of hope, was harbored in the fact that her and Clint shared a bond that was unbreakable.  She **had**  to keep trying with him.  She really did think she could get through to him, eventually.  This wasn’t a pipe dream or puppy-love, causing her to think this.  She’d been craving and fighting for her freedom her entire life - from her bucking back against the authority of her handlers at times, to her running away to the Navy._

_She was here now, and she wasn’t going back._

_Natasha’s hand was a little shaky as she finally took a drink.  Steve grabbed her hand as she set her glass down, and held it tight before he finally spoke, “Nat, I’m so sorry…this is all my fault.  I should have never tried to make this happen…I just…I really wanted to meet your brother because he means so much to you.”_

_Natasha spoke under her breath, “Steve…Please, don’t be so damn good right now.”  Natasha looked over at him and saw his wrinkled forehead and saddened expression before she continued, “None of this is your fault…you can’t take the blame for my life and my actions.”_

_She was incredible.  She was strong.  She was a survivor._

_That is all that Steve heard in her words as he scooted a little closer, removing any space between them.  She was right.  This wasn’t about his feelings.  This was about whatever was going on between Clint and her, and their livelihood.  Steve didn’t understand it, but he knew he hated everything she’s had to go through._

_So, he did the only thing he could do._

_“You’re right, Nat.  This isn’t about me.  But I **am**  sorry because I never want to see you in pain…you mean so much to me.  So, trust me when I say, that no matter what you tell me, I’ll listen…I’ll always listen because it’s you.” _

_Even when she was feeling low, Steve could do this.  He could find a way into her heart and make her feel something good.  His sincerity radiated off of him like he was the sun, and she just wanted to fall into him, soaking up every drop his warmth._

_But Natasha also knew that Clint had sparked enough questions during their conversation, that it was time to tell Steve more…to tell him everything about her life and her handlers.  He’d been patient with her up until now, and she knew Clint would be furious with her, but she didn’t care right now.  Steve was here, and it was like he was her compass, keeping her grounded and pointed in the right direction…towards him._

_So that’s what she’d do.  She’d let him listen.  She just hoped that he would still be waiting for her on the other side._

* * *

_Natasha turned slightly, so her back was against the wall as she slipped off her heel and brought her knee up in between them, letting it rest against the back of the booth as her foot went right next to Steve’s thigh._

_They had spent so much time together over the last several months, that they naturally moved around one another.  There was no thought to it most of the time.  So, when Natasha moved so she could look at Steve, but still be sitting right by him, he moved too.  Steve turned as much as he could and held onto her foot with one hand and found her hand with his other, holding it tight on the table._

_Natasha looked around, seeing that the only other people in the bar besides them were two people watching a game on TV at the bar, across the room.  The bartender appeared to know them as she joined in their conversation._

_Steve and her were alone right now, in all the ways that counted.  So, she exhaled, as if telling herself and Steve, ‘here we go.’_

_“Clint and I are similar in so many ways but different in so many others.  I’ve told you some of it, Steve…He’s older, angrier, and doesn’t have any dream or hope of an outside life.  Whether he’s willing to try and understand or not, that’s why I’ve done what I have…Contrary to what my repeated actions might display, I actually don’t like being on the receiving end of my handlers’ ire.”_

_The failed attempt at humor was just that – it landed flat, and Steve just ran his thumb over her ankle._

_“Whether my ass of a brother believes me or not, it’s all been for both of us.  That’s why I joined the military.  I knew our handlers would be furious, but I didn’t care.  I had to try and save us, and to find a life for us.  I had to try and give Clint a chance to find himself, outside of the soldier he was forced to be…They raised me to be a fighter.  Well, I did fight, and I’ll continue to fight for him and me.”_

_She paused for a second, “So, even though the military wasn’t my way out, I kept trying.  And then I found this…the FBI…and somehow, by a stroke of luck or something…I found you.  And the thought of freedom has only felt more real because of it.”_

_God, she was so strong.  And Steve only admired her more for it as he felt her fingers tighten on his hand._

_“But Clint thinks I’m a fool and naïve…and that I’m stupid to ever think that my handlers will let me go.  Well, I’m not stupid.  They raised a fighter and a spy…what did they think would happen when those skills mixed, with someone who didn’t comply with their every demand?  I’m **not**  going back, Steve.  It’s not a pipedream…they’re not going to force me to do anything awful…ever again.  And I’m going to make my brother see that, so he doesn’t have to either.”_

_He loved her…Steve loved her **so**  damn much._

_And that was the first time he had actually admitted it to himself.  That very second, he said it in his head, and now his heart was screaming with his love for her._

_Of course, she was so smart and strong, and beautiful, and stubborn.  But, her determination and spirit, right now with Steve, had never been stronger.  She was a survivor like him.  Hell, what she’s had to survive is 10 times the amount of horrors that Steve or Bucky lived through, but it didn’t matter.  Her resilience only drew him in more right now.  Yes, he absolutely loved her…But now wasn’t the time to tell her._

_If there is one thing, that Steven Grant Rogers’ loved ones know about him, it’s how much he’ll do to protect them.  Bucky and Sarah knew that…more than anyone.  They knew his loyalty knew no ends when it came to them._

_Steve ran his thumb, back and forth, over the inside of her ankle, as he thought about his love for her, and the words she just shared, ‘they’re not going to force me to do anything awful…ever again.’_

_The thought of Natasha having to do god knows what, only angered Steve.  He wanted to find these people.  He wanted to fight them…He wanted to stop them.  They were just as bad as the terrorists he’d fought overseas, if not worse.  Whatever she’s done, he’ll listen with the love in his heart for her.  But he wanted to hear it from her._

_“What were the awful things you had to do, Natasha?” Steve asked._

_Natasha looked up at him, feeling his presence around her, as his hands caressed her ankle and hand.  She chewed on her lip, with only a second of hesitation before she sighed heavily.  She was worried before tonight that revealing any of these details might make Steve see her in a different light.  But Clint had all but laid out some of the red in her ledger, and Steve was still here.  Right in front of her.  Not going anywhere._

_Natasha nodded her head nervously as she began talking._

_“Steve, I don’t deserve the kindness and patience you’ve shown me.  I haven’t been able to tell you anything else before now, because part of me wanted to protect you…but a bigger part of me, if I’m being honest…was scared how you’d see me.”_

_Steve leaned in closer as he squeezed his hands a little tighter on her and said, “Natasha, I see you…I see **you**.  You don’t have to be scared.”_

_Another breath and another sigh._

_This one with a hint of relief, hearing his words as she shook her head before she spoke, “Some of it, I’ve alluded to…non-stop training in combat, martial arts, weapons, language, academics, and so on.  But the other part of our training, was much more of a mental test…to see where our barriers were, and then finding the pressure points on how to make you jump over those barriers…It was a mind fuck.  They never stopped.  You never truly passed.  They just evolved, increasing in severity the older we got.”_

_She shut her eyes for a second before she continued, “When I was really young, back in the USSR, the tests started small.  Like asking you to tell the smallest of lies and steal the smallest of items, just to see if you’d do it – like saying the sky was red, or that you’d have to use the bathroom when you didn’t, or taking an apple from the kitchen without asking…things that had no significance.  Then they progressed to see if you’d lie and steal, even when you knew it was wrong, or even if you’d hurt someone’s feelings from it – like telling another child in the orphanage that another girl called her a “сука.”  It mean’s bitch…Or taking something from another child’s room and telling them someone else did it.”_

_“One particular time that happened, a bad fight broke out, when the girls figured out that I had started the lie.  Clint told you earlier - I was six.  They were five.  I broke one of the girl’s legs.  No one in the orphanage stopped the fight.  They just wanted to see how far we would go as little, weaponized girls.”_

_Natasha’s brow furrowed, remembering the memory, “Then you’re a little older, and it progresses, with them teaching you to form lies so easily, that you can manipulate the outcome, like getting a girl to tell you a secret, and then using that secret to blackmail her into giving you something personal of hers.  Something of no value to you, but a symbol that you succeeded.”_

_It was almost like she was in a trance, recalling the details of her past as she continued, “Or like what Clint told you, when I lied my way into robbing a bank at the age of 12, convincing the bank teller that I really wanted to work in a job like hers someday.  I was in the US at the time.  My handlers obviously didn’t need the money…they just wanted to see if I could manipulate the situation to get to a certain point, and then they told me when I could leave – after I’d stolen the money from her bank drawer…I looked the part, I sounded the part…as an innocent pre-teen.  I knew not to take the money where the trigger switch was, so I left the bank, without the teller even realizing I’d robbed her drawer.”_

_She exhaled as she spoke in a soft tone, “Lie.  Steal.  Manipulate…that was always the test.  And once you succeeded in their eyes, they just became harder, both physically and mentally.”_

_Steve felt a sense of dread in his chest as Natasha listed other examples:_

  * _We were homeschooled until we hit middle-school. When I was 13, I had to break in to my school’s administrative office to switch out my file, with one my handlers gave me.  It was all the same information, but there was a watermark on the original file.  So, they’d know if I returned the real thing.  The surprise twist for me, was that they wanted me to leave evidence that the office was broken into, framing another student.  I did…the student was expelled…I passed._


  * _When I was 14, I planted drugs on the son of a lawyer in the neighborhood. The lawyer met my handlers and had asked them a few questions.  He wasn’t even suspicious…He was just being neighborly, but they didn’t like it.  So, they wanted me to prove I could get revenge on him, just for asking questions…The kid was sent to a juvenile detention center for six months.  The family moved away.  I passed._


  * _When I was 15, another handler that had gone ‘rogue’ and had a wife and child without Russia’s knowledge was discovered. You know the rest from what Clint told you…I threw a Molotov Cocktail into the house, thinking no one was home.  The Russian wasn’t.  The Mother and child were – they were scarred for life, and I passed._


  * _At the age of 16…Clint told you already._



_Clint did tell Steve, and it made Steve clench his jaw and see red for a second in a spike of rage, as Natasha continued, “You know, I didn’t even get far in my striptease my handlers wanted me to do for that disgusting cop.  I was in his home, he had turned the music on, and I took my jacket off…that was it.  I don’t even know if I could have gone through with it.  I’d like to say no…But, I never had to answer that question, because Clint barged in, right at the same time, and blew the guy’s head off without hesitation…he was taken away from me for a few months by our handlers, as punishment because I didn’t pass.”_

_Natasha’s eyes were glassy, and Steve wasn’t just soothing her as he rubbed her skin under his thumb.  He was soothing himself, reassuring himself that she was safe, here with him.  “You’re such a good person, Steve.  I bet you feel so sorry for my pathetic upbringing.”_

_He leaned over to brush his lips over her leggings, on her knee that rested against the booth.  Looking into her eyes, he said, “Nat…I am sorry.  I am **so**   **sorry** , but I don’t say that with any pity.  I say that because I care about you.  Hearing everything, only makes you stronger in my eyes.  You’re a fighter and a survivor, don’t you ever forget that.”_

_How could he make her feel better in a moment like this?_

_She didn’t know the exact answer to that question, but she knew that he did make her feel better.  Being around him always brought a natural calming feel to her, but his words just now, it was like she was telling him the worst things about herself, and he could only see the best in her._

_There was one thing that Clint said, when he was throwing his verbal punches, that Natasha hadn’t talked about.  Steve knew it, but he wasn’t going to ask.  And Natasha knew he wouldn’t because he was the most incredible person in the world to her.  That’s how she felt about him at least._

_“Steve, there’s so much more.  So much of it, with no significance to anyone except for the people that were hurt…that’s how it continued forever, until I **did**  do significant damage.”_

_Natasha sat up now, sitting right next to Steve, but turning toward him, so their faces were only a few inches apart.  Their hands remained joined on the table while Steve’s other moved to her hip, “Nat, you can tell me anything.  I promise you.”_

_The truth was, Steve heard loud and clear what Clint had said, ‘The lives she had to take…’_

_They stuck out then, and Steve knew that’s what she was teetering on telling him now.  Honestly, he was worried.  He didn’t know what she would say, but he knew that he loved her, and he would hear her out, and be there for her.  Because everything Natasha had to do, she didn’t do to become a Russian spy…she did it to survive._

_Natasha could feel his gaze on her as she continued, “Clint wasn’t lying, Steve.  I did have to take lives before I joined the Navy.  It was one of my first official missions, even though it was still a test.  I was 17.  We were supposed to break into a local police station that had a couple of Russian local mafia members in holding.  It was a trade-off.  We break them out, the mafia is then loyal to our handlers.  It was the way of life.”_

_“It was me, Clint, and two other operatives at our training grounds.  It went sideways.  We got them out, but they tried to attack me, so Clint attacked back.  A fight broke out with everyone in the group, and 30 seconds later, one of the men from the mafia, pulled one of our team’s guns on Clint.  I didn’t hesitate.  I put a bullet through his head, and then turned to his friend and did the same.  No witnesses from the mafia.  We got rid of the bodies.  Clint tried to take the heat with our handlers…They didn’t do anything right away…that’s what they do.  They fuck with your mind anyway they can.  They make you think they’re not going to do anything, and then they wait it out, because delay adds to the torture, and adds to their sick fucking pleasure.”_

_Steve was pressing into Natasha’s hip as she went on, “Three months later, I turned 18.  They brought the other two operatives that were with me and Clint that night…They put us in a caged in area at their base, and had everyone in the area they were in charge of, come to watch.  It was their sick and twisted version of Thunder Dome…Our handlers made it clear that the other two operatives ratted out Clint and I on what happened.  They said they wouldn’t excuse incompetency from us, and they don’t excuse rats like them…without consequences.  Both duos weren’t going to make it out of the cage, and it was up to us to decide by fighting.”_

_Natasha was looking down now.  She couldn’t look at Steve with his blue and peaceful eyes trying to bring her reassurance, but her hand did find its way down to his, as she laced her fingers with his on her waist.  Her breath had a waiver in it now, as she recalled the memory._

_“I refused to fight at first.  I wasn’t going to do it.  That itch to break free had grown inside of me, and I was 18 now, and something inside of me flipped.  I wasn’t going to comply with them any fucking longer.  But it didn’t work out that way.  The other two men went for me, and I defended myself, but I wouldn’t attack.  Me refusing, only made me the runt of the litter.  They boxed me out, and tied me up against the fence.  Somehow, they knew to bring rope with them.  It was probably my handlers because Clint and I had nothing.  They attacked Clint, and he fought them off for as long as he could, but two against one eventually wears the ‘one’ down…He wasn’t going to last much longer against them.”_

_“I had worked one of my hands free from being tied, and a piece of the fence came loose, so I made quick work of peeling the wiring down enough…to the seam in the ground, where it went to.  My hands were free…And two minutes later, my then bloody hands, raw from rope burn and plucking and peeling at a metal fence, held a rope and a six-inch metal wire.  They had Clint pinned on the ground, and I sprinted as fast as I could.  I can still feel the way my lungs burned inside of me for those seconds, trying to get to him.”_

_Natasha’s breathing had increased, right along with Steve’s, “I threw the rope at Clint’s hands on the ground and jumped on one of the men’s back.  I threw my legs around his neck, stabbed him in the eye with the wire, and threw our bodies to the ground, snapping his neck with my feet, five seconds later.”_

_Clint had the other guys neck tied up with the rope as his last breath left his body.  We stood up, covered in blood, gasping for breath, and were so relieved in the moment, just to be alive.  But we’d just murdered two men in front of a cheering crowd, like we were fucking gladiators or something…I’ve never felt so disgusting in my life.”_

_“Nat,” Steve whispered.  He didn’t know what else to say.  He wanted to hold her everywhere in addition to her hands right now, but she cut him off, “Two days later, I ran away and joined the Navy on the spot…Clint even wanted me to go at first.  He told me to spread my wings, but to remember to fly home to him from time to time.”_

_“We stayed in contact through burner phones we’d stolen.  It worked for about a year.  He told me he was fine, but the longer I stayed away, the more our handlers made him do.  They got in contact with me through Clint’s phone after they found it, a year into my service.  They told me I needed to return home.  I told them to fuck off and that I was now on a special forces team.  They couldn’t make waves with the military because it would draw attention, so they had to sit and wait…and they were irate.”_

_“So, they waited.  And waited.  I was naïve then, Steve.  I thought for a little while, that the military would even protect me and my brother someday.  Two years passed, then three, and each time I came back to Clint, he looked more broken, angrier, and more like a different person.  He’s never told me everything they had him do in that time period, but I don’t have to imagine too hard to have a good idea.”_

_Steve was trying to process everything and finally asked his first question since Natasha started talking, “What’s the end goal for your handlers and the people in charge, Natasha?”_

_Natasha scoffed, “You know the game, RISK?”  Steve stared at her as she continued, “World Domination.  I don’t know many specifics.  They keep their system in a hierarchy because they don’t want anyone knowing too much.  Retrieve information, compartmentalize, and disseminate to other Russians to protect it.”  Steve’s brow wrinkled, listening to everything she said as she continued:_

_“I’ll put it in military terms since we were in the Navy and Army.”_

_Natasha listed the examples:_

  * _The Generals are in Russia and know the big picture and where all their armies are._
  * _The Captains are the handlers in each country. They each have their own objective for their platoon of spies they train and develop.  Our handlers oversee all of the other handlers and respective ‘platoons’ in the US.  I’m guessing they know the overall objective for America.  I know they’re in communication with the other countries’ handlers, but I doubt they know any of the specifics._
  * _Clint and I, and other spies we trained with…we’re the soldiers. We made up the platoon of spies.  Each of us might rise to the level of a Lieutenant, leading individual missions, but we never knew anything bigger or the overall objective for America.  Like I said, compartmentalize and disseminate.  They designed it that way._



_Steve asked, “What other countries?”_

_“I don’t know all of them.  I know the Russian program has spies in Britain, Germany, China, and Australia, but I’m sure there are others…Steve, I can’t tell you how dangerous it is for you to know any of this,” Natasha whispered as her voice began to tremble._

_Steve could tell she was reaching her limit, and he grabbed her hands and held them in his lap._

_Natasha pushed on, “They believe they should have emerged from WWII as the world’s greatest super power.  They still believe they won the Cold War.  They believe the USSR never should have fallen.  And they believe they will rise again as the greatest country on earth.  They think Stalin is a God.  It’s beyond fucked up…I know it sounds like a spy novel.  But it’s true.  And the protagonist in the novel is Russian, not American.”_

_Steve didn’t want to believe any of what she told him.  The urge to protect her was stronger than ever as he moved his hand to wipe a tear from her face.  A sense of dread started forming in the pit of his stomach as Natasha’s world was much darker and more sinister than he’d even imagined.  And he’d imagined a lot in the last several months._

_He said, “Natasha, these type of people…These types of terrorists don’t let people leave their army.  I saw it overseas, and I’m sure you did too.  The difference is, the people we fought against in the Navy and Army didn’t have the overarching reach of the Russian Government.  I’m **really**  scared for you.”   _

_Natasha felt his hand on her cheek.  She couldn’t believe what she just heard.  She admitted murdering people to Steve, albeit in self-defense, but that wasn’t the only thing she had admitted to him.  She hated every single thing she had to do under the guise of her handlers._

_“After everything I’ve just told you…you’re scared for me?  I don’t deserve you, Steve.”_

_Steve looked at her intently, and held her face between both hands, “Natasha, this is why letting each other completely in, is so important.  I want to help.”_

_Natasha started shaking her head profusely and whispered, “No Steve, you are already in so much danger, just knowing what I’ve told you.  I can’t have you be involved.  This is my problem, and Clint’s life could be on the line.  I can’t risk anything happening to him...I can’t let anything happen to you.”_

_Natasha started to feel overwhelmed and began breathing rapidly.  Steve saw her reaction and reached down to place his hand over her heart, “Shhh, let me feel you breathe, Natasha.  Just breathe against my hand.”_

_Listening to his words, she focused on his eyes and felt Steve’s hands move against her chest._

_It’s a good thing no one was in the bar, besides two guys enjoying a baseball game on TV with the bartender.  Even if they did peek across the bar, it just looked like Natasha and Steve were whispering to each other and possibly making out._

_Steve felt her calm down a little and said, “Okay, I know this isn’t the wild west, and I can’t just shoot up the bad guys.  But, let me ask you, what exactly is your plan?”_

_Natasha stared at his hand over her heart and felt a warmth spread through her as she responded, “Clint doesn’t know.  I knew they’d never let me just leave after I was done at Quantico…I knew they’d always try to force me back, so I’ve obtained some insurance.”_

_Steve’s throat tightened, and he became nervous at what she was going to say._

_Natasha leaned forward, so her lips were almost brushing against his ear, “I have a list of locations and the names of over 100 Russian spies in America.  It’s not comprehensive, and it doesn’t include anyone in other countries, or the actual people involved in Russia.  But it’s what I could gather over the years.  And it will definitely do some damage.  I had a deal with my handlers, but I never anticipated them to uphold it.  I used the fact they thought I was naïve, against them.  And I formed a back-up plan.  My brother and I are getting out, and I can’t wait to see the look on their fucking faces when I tell them.”_

_Steve’s thumb ran back and forth over her heart as he said, “Natasha, this is too dangerous, I can’t let you.”_

_Natasha immediately cut him off, “No Steve, you can and you will.  I have spent most of my life on a path I was forced on.  I am **done**.  I am not going to let my brother lose himself completely before he’s ever had a chance to even find out who he really is.  And I am not losing you.  I meant what I told you six weeks ago.  I am not going back there, and I am staying in the FBI.  This is my life.”_

_God, she’s never looked more beautiful to him.  So confident…So in control of what she wants…So free in this moment._

_Steve smiled at her fierce tone, “I believe you, Natasha.  I can’t imagine how hard it was to tell me all of this.   I told you this earlier, before you told me about what you and Clint had to do, and I still mean it.  You are a survivor.  You have nothing to feel disgusting about with what you and Clint had to do.  So, we can table the discussion on your plan, and how I can, and **will**  help you, but I do have one other question.”_

_“Anything, Steve.”_

_“What are your handler’s names?”_

_Natasha stared up at him, “Steve, they are very powerful in the program and dangerous.”_

_“I think I picked up on that from what you’ve told me.”  The faintest smile formed on his lips and she smiled back._

_She knew from the look in his eyes that he was with her on this, so she answered him, “Ivan and Oksana Petrovich are their Russian names. They live under the American names of Richard and Mary Johnson, but to all of us, they are still known as Ivan and Oksana.”_

_They both felt emotionally exhausted from everything.  Steve leaned down to kiss her forehead.  “Are you okay, Steve?” Natasha asked as she leaned in to his lips on her skin._

_He whispered in her ear, “I am really scared for you, Natasha.  But as long as I have you by my side, and you let me help you, I’ll be okay.”_

_Natasha nodded, showing she was saying yes as he said, “Now come on, let’s skip eating out tonight.  We’ll have plenty of time for that tomorrow.  Let’s go back and order room service and see what our suite has to offer.”_

* * *

_The drive back to the hotel was quiet._

_For most of her life, Natasha could only dream of a normal existence.  She never knew it was actually a possibility.  She started to fight for it when she joined the Navy, but when she met Steve, the image of that future started to actually form.  Because now, and really for the last couple of months, when she thought of a future, Steve was standing right beside her._

_Natasha looked at the people going in and out of bars on their drive back, and she imagined her and Steve coming back to this little town on vacation.   She imagined some of those vacations would even be with friends, or on anniversaries.  Those images in her mind made her heart soar from the possibility of it all.  But they also made her shudder from a fear of losing it, before she even had it._

_Steve noticed Natasha was lost in her thoughts as they walked back into the hotel.  He reached over to grab her hand, letting her know he was there…right beside her.  He held onto her through the lobby, in the elevator, and through the hall until they reached their suite._

_Steve was determined to help bring her back to the present, so he made them some drinks and a tray of fruit, crackers, and cheese from the kitchen.  Walking over to turn on the fireplace, he noticed Natasha wasn’t in the room.  He looked all around the suite again.  She wasn’t inside.  He slipped off his jacket and took a drink, as he went to the only place he hadn’t looked yet, the deck._

_He saw her on the lower level of the deck by the hot tub, leaning against the railing.  She was looking up at the sky.  As he got closer to her, he could hear the soft sniffles coming from her body._

_“You care if I join you down here, Natasha?”_

_She jumped a little, being pulled from her thoughts and looked back to him, “Of course you can be down here.  You paid for the room, Steve.”_

_Steve saw that mascara had run a little down her face, and that her hair was disheveled from her hands running through it, over the last few minutes.  All he could think was how strong and beautiful she looked.  He walked toward her, never breaking her eye contact, “Natasha, talk to me.  I’m right here.”_

_He saw her chin begin to tremble, “I’m so sorry, Steve.  For the lies, for involving you…I’m sorry for all of it.  If anyone finds out I told you any of it…”_

_Grabbing her hands, Steve said, “No one is going to find out.  And you didn’t involve me.  I involved myself when I ran into you, and I literally fell head over heels for you on that running path.  I don’t know exactly what our future holds, but I’m sure as hell excited to think about it with us both in it.”_

_She took a deep breath, calming herself and feeling his hands around hers, “How can you be so wonderful to me and talk about our future together, after everything you’ve learned tonight, Steve?”_

_His hand moved to her cheek, and he ran his thumb over it, “Natasha, I’m angry at the unfair life you were forced into, but not at you.  Buck and I had to rely on each other like you and Clint, but not nearly in the same way.  My father was abusive, but it pales to the shit you’ve dealt with.  But somehow, it all makes me feel that much closer to you.  Everything you’ve shared with me about your past and what you had to do…I meant what I said at the bar, Nat.  You are a survivor.  You are such a strong person, and I feel so lucky to have you in my life.”_

_Steve saw her understand what he was telling her as he continued, “Everything we’ve done has been to survive and to protect our loved ones.  That is what I’m doing tonight and will always do for you.  I think I’ve felt this way from very early on, in our relationship, and it scared the hell out of me then.  But now the feeling just makes me hopeful for our future.  You and I may be from two different worlds, yet somehow, we still chose a path that led to each other.  That means something.”_

_“I love you, Steve.”_

_The words were out of her mouth before she could even think.  What she said, started registering in both of them as they saw their eyes shift as they stared at each other.  Steve’s eyes almost questioned her, to make sure he heard her right, and a small grin appeared on her face, when she finally heard in her head what she had just said.  She meant every word._

_Steve shook his head in disbelief and started to chuckle._

_Natasha was caught off guard, “I tell you I love you, and you start laughing, Rogers?”_

_Steve stopped and stared at her again, moving their hands between their chests so they could rest between their hearts as he held hers.  Their faces were mere inches away from each other, “I shouldn’t be surprised, Nat.  You’ve been beating me to the punch from day one…Just so you know, I was planning on saying it first, but you had to go and be stubborn again…”_

_A smile started forming as Natasha realized what he was starting to say, but his words drew her back to him, before she could complete the thought._

_“Natasha, I love you too.”_

* * *

_Natasha cut him off as she found his lips with hers before he could say anything else.  There was nothing else that needed to be said._

_It didn’t take long for the air to shift around them._

_Natasha had been distraught after their encounter with Clint.  But Steve, being the man he was, was there for her, and listened to everything she had to say, and was still standing beside her.  She was still upset about where her and Clint stood.  But all she could think of in the moment, was how grateful she was that Steve Rogers came into her life.  He challenged her, called her out when she needed it, didn’t judge her for her past, made her laugh, made her feel wanted and normal, and most importantly…he trusted and **loved**  her. _

_She never knew she could have any of these feelings inside of her with another person.  Sure, Clint and her loved and trusted each other and relied on each other, but they were together because of life and being forced on a wicked and cruel path.  Steve…they had somehow found each other, and Natasha felt things with her heart and mind, and body…that she never thought possible.  And they were…they were more than possible._

_They had both said they loved each other just now, and the desire she felt for him was almost tangible because she could feel it with every part of her body.  And the way he was staring at her now…as he pulled away from her kiss for a moment, told her everything she needed to know – he felt the same exact yearning and want for her._

_They had been lusting after each other since their first meeting.  They had passion take over at different times in public, in private, and in places they thought were private, but actually weren’t at the academy…much to the dismay of their friends.  But they had never gone further than intense make-outs and some wandering hands, trying to find more of each other._

_Now, all of those times seemed like foolish desires, compared to the tension between them.  This wasn’t lust.  This wasn’t just desire.  This was love._

_They said it, and now they **needed**  each other in every way they haven’t had one another yet…and they both knew it.    _

_Breathing became deeper and drawn-out, and their eyes wouldn’t move from one another, trying to take every second in as they knew what was about to happen.  Their chests were moving around their clasped hands between them, more forcefully than a minute ago.  And the cool night air suddenly felt a little warmer as the pull between them became almost unbearable._

_Natasha moved first._

_It wasn’t dramatic or big.  Her fingertips brushed the inside of his palm between their hearts.  It was soft and slight, and if their nerves weren’t on fire right now, causing their levels of alertness to be off the charts, Steve might have missed it._

_But he didn’t._

_Feeling the brush of her fingers so close between them, was one of the most intimate things Steve had ever felt.  And his body responded, letting out a slow breath._

_He moved next, sliding his arm out from between them, and brushing along up her leather sleeve, over her shoulder, until he found her soft skin._

_His hand moved passed the collar of her jacket, sliding over the column of her neck.  Tracing his thumb up and down her throat, he felt her pulse.  And every beat he felt of her blood, connected straight to his thumb, and travelled through his body, all the way to his groin._

_Steve’s lips followed his hand, placing open and warm kisses below her jawline.  Natasha’s breathing wasn’t drawn out anymore.  It had increased, becoming a little quicker as he kept kissing around her pulse._

_There was a throbbing between Steve and Natasha that only filtered into the air and tension around them…almost like they were in a haze on the deck, and couldn’t get out of it unless they went further._

_Aching to kiss her again, he moved away from her throat._

_Natasha hummed as their lips met, this time with more urgency._

_Moving her hands around his back, she felt his muscles ripple and tense under her touch.  Those same fingers that brushed against his palm, initiating this whole thing, were wandering.  They wandered over his shirt, down the muscles along his spine until she found where his shirt was tucked in at.  She pulled it from his belt and jeans, un-tucking him all the way until she could feel the hem._

_Steve groaned, feeling her fingertips travel under his shirt and push into his warm skin along his waist.  His hands responded in kind, moving down her throat as he grazed her collarbone, slipping underneath the leather until her jacket fell to the floor._

_The fabric made contact with the wooden deck, announcing this was happening.  Their alone time was finally here, and they could not wait any longer._

_Natasha needed to feel more of his skin.  Her hands moved quickly, back around to the front of him to start undoing his buttons.  He grinned, watching her as he leaned down to continue kissing her neck…God he loved how sensual it felt to his touch._

_Feeling Natasha huff out a frustrating breath from fumbling with the last few buttons on his shirt, Steve stepped away from her.  Their eyes had darkened, but wouldn’t leave one another’s stare.  His lips already red, from their contact with her throat.  Her lips wet, and a little raw, from her chewing on her plump, lower lip._

_He smirked at her, pulling his button-down over his head in one swift move._

_It fell to the ground next to her jacket._

_She looked at his army tags on his bare chest, with a trail of hair travelling over his navel, disappearing into his jeans.  Natasha felt herself become warmer, wanting her tongue to follow that trail._

_Steve moved towards her again, speaking in a husked tone, “My turn.”_

_His hands went straight to her hips, thumbing over the green fabric of her blouse.  Fingers moving along the curve of her waist, drawing closer to her center, until he found the lowest button on her shirt._

_Natasha licked her lips.  Steve let out a shaky breath.  Neither breaking away from each other’s eyes, as he slowly and torturously started undoing her buttons, one-by-one.  He undid the bottom two, as his thumbs grazed over her bare stomach, causing a hitch in her breathing.  The next two were undone, and his fingers skimmed the soft skin over her ribcage.  Natasha became aroused, as all of the warmth seemed to pool in her middle from his touch, trickling all the way down to her core._

_“You say you love me, but you’re still a goddamn tease, Rogers,” Natasha said sultrily._

_A glint flashed through his eyes at her words, with his hands lingering over her skin.  Not moving, but feeling every breath of hers, he answered, “Consider this payback for all of your teasing up to now, Romanoff.”_

_Give and take.  Push and pull._

_The magnetism between them was more than tangible now.  They didn’t have to try because it was as natural as breathing to them.  She challenged, and he pushed right back.  It made their need for each other only escalate._

_Steve broke the trance and moved to the last button, undoing it as her blouse fell to the side of her breasts, drawing his eyes away from hers finally._

_Natasha’s arousal was more than noticeable as he saw her hardened nipples through the black lace of her bra…like they were trying to break free…screaming to be touched.  He couldn’t stop himself from answering that scream, even if he tried._

_His hands moved just under the lacy fabric as his thumbs lightly skated across her protrusions of skin, and she moaned in response, grabbing his biceps at the same time._

_God her sounds did something to him._

_Steve looked back up, and his breath came out with a force, almost sounding like a grunt.  There she was, with fire in her eyes, watching him touch her breasts…and chewing on that goddamn lower-lip again._

_Steve pulled back, looking at Natasha in full-view with her shirt hanging open, tantalizing him like she was giving him a mating call.  Her hands moved to her neck as she took off her gold necklace, letting it fall to the deck, right next to her jacket and his shirt._

_The blouse joined the rest of the garments quickly as she slid it off her shoulders, and Steve pulled her back to him._

_Encircling her waist, Steve lowered his mouth to her exposed skin above her breasts.  She grabbed his shoulders, arching her back into his mouth and he groaned, feeling the pressure between them._

_Natasha tugged his chin up, lifting his mouth from her chest, as she moved to his ear, whispering, “No more waiting, Steve.”  And she pulled away.  Then, she walked around him, up the two steps to the upper deck, and into the suite, until all Steve could see was her silhouette._

_Steve was unsettled only a little while ago, with how upset Natasha was from Clint.  But this is who they were.  They rode their emotions with each other, and found a way through.  He had been patient with her and trusted her, and she told him everything she possibly could have tonight.  Of course, he was worried and scared for her, and hated the things she had to do to survive in her life.  But on some level, even though it wasn’t as intense, Steve shared that experience with her.  He survived his father.  He survived his tours of duty and missions gone horribly wrong overseas.  He had killed to survive there as well.  And his path led him to her._

_And god if he didn’t love her more now, than when he said it only 15 minutes ago…_

_Steve loved everything about her.  He loved her wit and banter.  He loved how strong and smart and challenging she was.  Yes, he loved how beautiful she was…But more than that, he loved how she made him question everything at times, with her provoking attitude and spirt.  And he loved the trust they had formed with each other._

_Neither one of them were entering into tonight as virgins.  They both had sexual encounters with other people in their lives before Quantico.  But those had paled in comparison and they hadn’t even started yet._

_But tonight **was**  a first for both of them.  Neither one of them had ever been in love before.  So, adding to their already passionate and intense relationship, the trust and love they had for one another, was something new and uncharted for Steve and Natasha. _

_It was scary, alluring, and inescapable…all at once._

_And Natasha was right…no more waiting._

_Seeing her shadow in the room, waiting for him…calling for him…Steve didn’t think he’d ever wanted anything more in life._

_Steve slipped off his shoes on the deck, and traveled up the stairs and into the room.  He almost stumbled over her heels that she had slipped off inside the French Doors, but he recovered quickly, chuckling at himself as a laugh escaped her lips, “I’m sorry, Steve…I should have kicked those away.”_

_“Hmm…I think you should’ve let me take them off myself, Nat.”_

_“Next time, Soldier.”_

_And just like that, no more laughing.  They were right back in the haze, with their intimacy pulling them in.  The moonlight added to the entryway glow, creating a dimly lit room, that was almost dark.  It was enough for Steve to find his way to her, not letting another second pass.  His hands dipped inside her leggings, feeling her lace panties as he grabbed her ass, picking her up as quickly as she cried out in surprise._

_She wound her legs around his narrow waist, holding on tight.  Kissing his neck, she could smell his aftershave as her arms wrapped around him.  Chests and stomachs were flush against each other, as his metal tags almost felt hot against her flesh._

_She couldn’t get enough of it._

_Steve carried her to the bed, his hands splayed over her back and her legs squeezing harder around him…so hard that he could feel the warmth from her arousal, as it seeped through her leggings against his skin._

_Slipping his hands out, Steve lowered her on the bed.  She rested on her elbows, propped up and staring at him as the air buzzed with electricity between them._

_Steve’s socks, jeans, belt, and army tags were removed within seconds, watching her the entire time.  Natasha licked her lips again as she watched his black boxer briefs come into view, “My own personal striptease…let me know where to leave the money, Rogers.”_

_He huffed out a laugh, but stopped as he saw her arching her back and sitting up, moving to unclasp her bra._

_Steve slid between her legs swiftly, pulling her hands back to her sides and stilling her movement.  His voice was gruff with hunger, “I get to take off the rest, Natasha.”  Her eyes fluttered, and she let out a sound of approval at his demand, feeling his hardening cock through his boxers, pushing against her stomach._

_Steve reached behind her, and unhooked the clasps, freeing the confines of her bra.  He looped his fingers under the straps, tugging at them until the lacy, black fabric fell to the floor.  He tilted her chin up, kneeling between her legs on the bed, as she followed his movement._

_The air felt cool on her freshly exposed skin, causing goosebumps to pebble along her arms and breasts.  Steve hovered over her ear, whispering, “I want to lick each one of those.”_

_Natasha wriggled her hips around him, feeling needier, bordering on a little desperate.  Steve started kissing the raised skin on her neck, but she wanted to feel more of him.  Her hand moved, grazing right across the center of his boxers and cupping at him, feeling his erection as a sigh escaped her throat, “Steve.”_

_Steve groaned at the contact, as she moved back on the bed a little, now lying flat on her back.  He grinned, chasing her with his mouth, lowering himself over her nipple.  Licking and lapping and sucking at her breast, his hand found her other one as he began pulling and tugging at it._

_A loud whimper escaped her at the pleasure she felt from his fingers and tongue, as she arched into his touch._

_Natasha lifted her hips, pushing into him a little harder.  She started moving towards his boxers again…towards what she needed, but he sat up on his knees, grabbing her wandering hands as he lifted them to his lips to kiss the back sides of each one.  She was beyond flustered.  He was so hard for her…she had felt it.  And now, she was practically begging him.  The tension was almost agonizing, and she needed some relief._

_Steve placed her palms at her sides again, and she lifted her knees as she began rubbing her thighs around his waist._

_His hands went to her knees, pressing into them, causing her feet to push more into the mattress and she whined.  He loved pulling every sound he could out of her, but that one…that one in particular, sensing all of her desperation for him, caused him to almost take her right there._

_Steve slid off the bed, standing up again and grabbed her feet, pulling her down to the edge again.  She almost laughed and cried at the same time, with what his teasing and prodding were doing to her insides.  But she felt more contact with his skin soon enough as his fingers moved to the waist of her leggings.  Slowly peeling off the black fabric, he lifted her feet one-by-one, freeing both of them._

_Still on her back, staring up at him, she watched him lift her leg as he started to kiss her bare skin.  He started at her foot, right by her red nail polish, then trailed down to her ankle.  He bent over as he reached her calve and made it all the way to the inside of her knee before looking back up at her._

_Natasha squeezed and pulled, tugging at her own nipples as his lips went higher, kissing the inside of her thigh.  Another whimper came out, and he looked up at her touching her breasts.  “Fuck, Nat, do you know what you do to me…What you’ve done to me ever since I met you?”_

_He was so close to her, she could feel his breath over her panties and she fidgeted again, “Yeah…I think I know.  You’re doing it to me too, Steve.”_

_Steve would be drawing this image of her as soon as he could…in his head…and on paper.  She was so goddamn beautiful._

_His fingers brushed over the center of her lace clad underwear, and she squirmed against him, not being able to take much more.  He could feel how wet she was, as he inhaled her scent and felt her leaking through the thin fabric.  She tried to lift her hips against him again, but he held her slender waist against the bed, stopping her._

_“Steve, please,” she started, catching her breath through a pant, “I said no more waiting.”_

_Steve kissed the outside of the fabric…taking in a hint of his first taste of all of her, and a deep groan came out of him.  The thin fabric of his boxers was now painfully constricting._

_Within seconds, Steve yanked her panties down, and she kicked them to the floor.  His boxers were off next, and both of them were fully exposed.  Him, with his achingly hard cock.  Her, with her pussy, glistening through her soft curls._

_She licked her lips, knowing the teasing was done, but a realization came over Steve, as he turned toward his bag.  She knew he was going for a condom, “Steve…you don’t need it, and I don’t want it.  I have an IUD in...”  Steve stopped in his tracks, turning to her, “Are you sure?  I promise you I’m clean Natasha, we got tested at the beginning of training.”  She nodded her head quickly, “Me too.  Please get back over here.  I need to feel all of you in me.”_

_Steve was on the bed again, and between her thighs.  She shifted beneath him, squirming again, pleading with him to be inside of her as her hands reached for him.  He needed to feel all of her too, but first he **had**  to feel and taste more of her. _

_Staring into her lustful eyes, Steve lowered his hand and ran his fingers along her slit.  “Natasha,” was all he could mutter out as he took in the slick feeling of her enveloping warmth._

_There was nothing like it, and they hadn’t even had actual sex.  She shut her eyes for a second but forced herself to look back down at him.  She was panting heavily, feeling his calloused fingers running along her, and hearing how wet she was for him._

_Soon, one finger entered her heat, and then two as her fluid surrounded him.  Moaning louder, Natasha writhed against his hand, pushing down into his palm, trying to find more pressure.  She was a teakettle about to squeal, and needed release._

_He looked at her face, utterly wrecked with love and thirst for him, and he paused, almost getting lost in how incredibly erotic she looked, literally fucking his hand._

_Steve watched her.  He could feel her, and he could hear her moans getting louder.  He sucked in another shaky breath, inhaling her musk headily as his cock jerked, trickling a little pre-cum, demanding to be inside of her.  He traced over his lower lip with his tongue, and she knew what he was going to do next._

_Steve pulled his pussy soaked fingers from her, and lifted them to his mouth, taking them in, tasting her fully for the first time.  He groaned, while he literally licked her off of himself.  She saw his eyes twitch as she looked back down to his large cock – it was red and swollen at the tip._

_“I can already tell, I’m going to be addicted to the taste of you,” he said in a gravelly tone.  Fuck, if that didn’t go directly to her core, making her more wet._

_He pulled her hips to the edge of the bed, kneeling on the ground now.  He didn’t hesitate as he moved back to her slick folds, drawing his tongue out, and taking her…from bottom to top, in one long and wet lick._

_“Fuck…Fuck me, Steve.”_

_Natasha cried as she jutted her hips towards his mouth, pinching her nipple again, as her other hand moved to pull on her own hair.  She was all around him.  Her knees spread…Her sounds, her scent, the feel of her…and he couldn’t get enough.  His tongue lapped and licked as he brought his thumb up to her clit, rubbing slow and deliberate circles around her swollen flesh._

_A louder whimper came out of her, and he never took his eyes off of her, seeing the horizon of her body from his view, starting with her soft curls, and then her stomach…then her breasts as he watched her pinch and tug at them…and then her plump lips.  And finally her eyes, staring straight back at him.  The angle was awkward, but the feeling was indescribable._

_Natasha was breathing heavily as a mewl came out of her throat, and she reached down to cover his hand over her clit, stilling his movement.  She wanted him.  She wanted this, but she needed him more… **now.** “Steve…I want you inside me the first time…please,” she panted.  _

_No more teasing.  No more drawing this out.  There would be plenty of time for that later._

_He stood up and she backed up on the bed again as he slowly chased after her.  He was between her thighs again as Steve’s mouth found hers, finally kissing her again.  Natasha tasted herself on his lips, and she licked at him, taking all of it in.  He didn’t think it was possible, but he was even more turned on by her now as he pulsated between her thighs._

_Bracing himself with his elbow and brushing her hair away as he cupped her face, he traced her opening and coated his tip with her.  He had to shut his eyes, just for a second to collect himself from how good it felt.  She tried to push up against him, but he beat her too it._

_Steve opened his eyes again, and looked in hers as he slowly entered her, inch by inch, until she surrounded his entire cock.  Natasha found his lips again, kissing him frantically, feeling all of him inside her, as he filled her completely.  He focused on kissing her for a few seconds, letting them both adjust to the feel._

_As amazing as it felt, it was still their first time, and it had been a long time for both of them, so it was still a little awkward._

_“Natasha, you are so tight.  Does this feel okay?”  Steve whispered with concern, above her.  She shook her head nervously, needing to feel more, “Yeah...I'm okay, Steve.”_

_Feeling her tight walls around him, he began to move slowly._

_Natasha nodded and bit her lip before she moved to kiss him again.  This time less frantic.  This time, more purposeful.  She found his tongue with hers as the wet sounds from their saliva added to everything they were feeling._

_He began moving a little more, and she tightened her thighs around his hips, letting herself feel more of him.  Natasha pressed her hands into his back, and pulled away from his mouth, whispering, “I love you, Steve.”_

_Steve found her eyes through her words and raised his hand to hold her cheek.  In that second, it was just their love.  Everything else was removed as he honed in on her beautiful gaze and listened to her words as he answered her through a gasping breath, “I love you too.”_

_Her hips started to move, meeting his own, and he went a little quicker.  It wasn’t long before they found their rhythm, falling in sync with each other, letting their sounds and feel of each other, lead the way._

_Natasha let out a soft moan with each of his thrusts, and it made him go faster.  Steve let out a raspy breath, groaning as she tilted her hips up, increasing the pressure from the angle he was entering her now._

_Bending her legs, Natasha anchored her heels into the bed, pushing herself up like she was doing a hip thrust so she could feel every inch of every move.  Steve grabbed her thigh with his large calloused hand and pushed her knee towards her stomach, widening her opening, causing him to go in deeper._

_Burying himself completely inside of her with each pump of his cock, they became fully in sync again.  His fingers dug into the flesh of her thigh as he began driving into her, over and over again.  Each push and pull became more intense, with the build inside starting to form, causing them to love every fucking second as they never took their eyes off each other._

_Steve pumped into her harder and faster now as she dug her nails into his skin, causing him to grunt as she felt the meat of his back, tense and flex under her.  The build was growing, and they could feel it between them, and inside each other, as sweat formed on their necks and brow and where they rutted against each other.  Writhing her hips under him, a couple of words in Russian slipped out, “Я люблю тебя.”_

_They were both close as their breathing and moans became louder with their bodies smacking against each other.  All of it culminating with them feeling less in control._

_Hearing and feeling how wet she was each time he entered her, pushed him to the edge.  Steve let go of her thigh, bringing his thumb down between them with his free hand.  Swiping and rubbing at her swollen center, she opened her mouth, but nothing came out this time.  He could feel her start to pulse under the touch of his hand as he whispered, “Come with me, Nat.  I’m close.”_

_Natasha shook her head at him as she panted, telling him, she was too, still not being able to find words.  Sliding a hand off his back, she raised it above her head, trying to find something for leverage.  Steve followed her and slipped his hand out from between them, finding hers above them, pushing her palm into the mattress as his movements became out of pace and more frantic.  She lifted both legs, squeezing her thighs tight around him._

_Hips bucking against each other, feeling their humid breaths and hearing their primal sounds, they kissed again, as Steve reached the edge first.  His mouth opened against hers she felt him empty inside of her._

_A couple more jerks with his cock inside her, spilling out his come, and she was following, moaning in ecstasy right after him.  He watched her, feeling her walls clench around him, milking him of everything he had.  He found her lips again and whispered her name, and kissed her through the end as he felt the last of her spasms around him._

_Coated in a sheen of sweat, they pressed their foreheads together.  Breathing heavily, they slowly came down from their high._

_She had a stupid grin on her face, and he was in a daze as he caressed her face and neck…and found her face again.  He leaned to kiss her forehead tenderly and whispered, “What did you say in Russian, Nat?”_

_She let out a breathy laugh, almost forgetting that she had spoken her native language, “I said, I love you…And I do.”_

_He looked back at her, blushing with how much he felt for her.  He kissed her cheek, and whispered, “I love you too, Nat…so much.”_

_Steve pulled himself away from her as they moved under the covers of the bed, completely naked and covered in each other’s sweat, but not caring at all.  She found her place, inside of his arms and said, “Don’t ever forget who said it first, Soldier.”_

_He smiled and let out a laugh as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling the blankets over them as they fell asleep.  How could he ever forget? He was pretty sure he’d remember every second of tonight for the rest of his life._

* * *

 

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just couldn’t resist adding in that little, sweet scene of Wanda and Bucky’s date. 
> 
> I just love them – and they are kind of a constant sweet spot – like how a relationship should really develop in life, so it’s nice to just check in with them every once and a while. As for everything else…lots of feels and emotions. And yeah, I figured we waited long enough for their first time 😊. 
> 
> Your continued time you give to read this story with your words of encouragement just mean so much to me and I thank you again and again.
> 
> I love hearing from readers, so let me know your thoughts or come follow me on Tumblr @eightieskat if you'd like to chat about anything with the story, Marvel, or anything else. Have a great day!!
> 
> Cheers!~~Kat


	15. Feels Like Forever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back-to-back smut chapters here. Didn’t set out that way in my initial outline, but as things progressed here we are :). Enjoy the chapter and image board below!

Memories & Reality

I do not own any of this or any part of Marvel or the MCU

Chapter 15 – Feels Like Forever

* * *

**_5 Years Ago –_ ** _Bucky & Wanda’s Wedding_

_It was evening in Brooklyn._

_And a cool summer breeze accompanied laughter and music on the rooftop of a bar and restaurant in the downtown district._

_Around 100 people were gathered as guests of the wedding reception for Wanda and James Barnes.  Fairy lights and paper lanterns hovered on wires over the area, making the rooftop glow as the city lights of Brooklyn assisted as a backdrop...The ambience was more than romantic, and it sounded like love and happiness._

_The Maximoff-Barnes Wedding was in a park a little earlier in the evening…and now it was time to party as the bridal party walked in._

_Sam immediately grabbed the microphone from the D.J., “Annnd now, it’s time for the stars of the evening.  We all know him as Bucky, but his **New Bride** calls him James.  We all call her Wanda, but our fearless leader, Fury will never stop calling her Maximoff…let’s put our hands together and let all of Brooklyn hear us…Mr. and Mrs. Barnes…Get in here Wanda and Bucky!”_

_The guests clapped and cheered with a couple of their friends whooping and hollering.  Everyone raised their glasses as Wanda and Bucky came through the rooftop doors.  They looked overjoyed, and like a smile had been permanently sewn onto their faces._

_“Kiss…Kiss…Kiss…” broke out from their friends immediately as the couple grinned at each other.  Bucky yelled out, “You don’t have to tell me twice!”  He grabbed his wife by the waist and bent her over into a dip, straight out of the 1940’s and gave her a passionate smack on the lips._

_The cheering became a little louder as he brought her back up and kissed her forehead.  If it was possible for their smiles to be any wider, they were showing it now…oozing a state of bliss, that only a young Bride and Groom, completely in love could._

_Wanda looked stunning with her calm presence and natural beauty.  She carried daisies and had her hair down in natural waves.  She wore a flowing chiffon, strapless white gown that was light and simple and 100 percent her._

_Bucky had his jacket and tie off already.  That left him in his grey pants and white button-down, with the top two buttons open, clearly showing that neither one of them cared about any sort of formality this evening._

_They made their way through the guests, hugging and laughing each of their friends and family members who were present for them at the beginning of their marriage.  Nick Fury, Melinda May and Phil Coulson stood by Sam and Bruce, all of whom were still in the FBI, along with the happy couple.  Their former teammates, Thor, Maria, Tony, and Rhodey, had all arrived together and joined the group._

_The group of friends wasn’t what it once was.  Especially since everyone standing together right now, weren’t all in the FBI anymore…But it wasn’t quite as fractured as it would become, years down the road._

_Maria and Thor joked with Sam and Bruce.  Rhodey and Tony got everyone a round of drinks as the happy couple made their way over.  To everyone’s surprise, Wanda was the one speaking loudly to all of them, “No fighting…no arguing…no talking about the past tonight.  I’m so happy you’re all here right now, so let’s make the most of it and enjoy each other’s company while we have it.”_

_And they all **were**  really happy for Wanda and Bucky, so her wish wasn’t a hard one to grant.  They could all focus on the enjoyment of two people in love, with the help of good food, alcohol, and music.  And they could all fall into old habits, just enjoying the company of each other tonight.  The group raised their glasses as Wanda and Bucky kissed again. _

_Wanda was pulled off by Maria to do a shot as the women hugged and posed for a picture._

_Bucky looked around after they broke apart, searching for the one team member present, that wasn’t by their group right now…his brother and best man._

_Steve was on the opposite side of the rooftop, with a glass of liquor in hand, hunched over the edge as he looked out into Brooklyn’s night sky.  His mother was right by him, with her hand on his back, comforting him as only a mother could while she talked quietly to him._

_Bucky made his way over to his family, “You know…when there’s only three of us in our immediate family, I start to feel left out when the two of you sneak off like this.”_

_Steve and Sarah turned around, and she beamed at her son, “Bucky, it is your wedding day.  It is absolutely impossible for you to feel left out.”  She came over and pinched his cheek and kissed him on his other side as he hugged her, “I know Mom, I was just kidding…”_

_Sarah turned back to Steve, “Remember what I said, Steve.  I want at least one dance with **both** of my sons tonight, so no sneaking off.”  Steve gave a smile to her, “I promise, Mom.”  She walked off, mingling her way through friends, leaving the brothers alone for a minute. _

_“You okay, Steve?” Bucky asked._

_There were so many feelings and sentiments behind that short question.  Neither were going to get into what he was really asking, because they both knew.  They’d talked so many times over the last two years since Natasha left.  Bucky knew today brought those conversations to the forefront of his brother’s mind…along with his emotions.  But he also knew Steve was incredibly happy for him and Wanda._

_“I’m okay as I will be, Buck…but all of that is out there, away from this rooftop tonight…I promise.  Mom was just…you know,” Steve answered.  And she was.  Sarah was doing something that only a mother could do, telling her son what he needed to hear, while still being incredibly loving and understanding of his pain and heartache._

_“Yeah, she was being Mom,” Bucky answered as Steve went on, “I am incredibly happy for you and Wanda, Buck.  I mean it.”_

_Bucky pulled his brother into a quick hug, “I know you are…and I love you, Steve.  I mean, if I can become an emotional sap from being married to the woman of my dreams today, then I think it’s possible for you to have a good time tonight, too…what do you say?”_

_Steve had taken his jacket off too, but still had his tie on.  His hair had grown out a little, but Sarah made him shave, even though he had started growing out a beard in the last year.  So, his muscular jaw was visible, as he took a big drink from his glass and nodded at his brother, “I think it’d be impossible to not have the time of our life tonight.”_

_And with that, Steve put on a smile, like he’d had on all day.  He needed a few minutes alone on the rooftop, that was all…And his mother caught up with him, giving him words of love and encouragement, and a little nudge in the right direction to ignore any negative feelings for just tonight…for Wanda and Bucky._

_And he would do that.  He clinked his glass with Bucky as they finished their drinks and made their way back over to everyone else.  As Bucky found Wanda again, she pulled Steve into a big hug and kissed him on the cheek before falling into Bucky’s side with his arm around her shoulder._

* * *

_The blissful evening was felt by everyone in attendance as liquor flowed and dancing commenced.  And it was all more than noticeable as a pair of green eyes watched from afar…from another rooftop._

_Natasha stood in the shadows.  She took in the scenes that’d just unfolded as she watched Bucky and Wanda kiss, and their friends all come together again.  And she watched Steve, tracking his every move, while taking the entire site in as well.  She watched him with his mother, knowing exactly what was going through his mind, because the exact thoughts and feelings were coursing through her heart as well.  She saw Bucky come over and Sarah walk away.  And she saw the brothers hug, and Steve put on a smile for everyone, except for the one person that he couldn’t…her._

_“You know, I always said great minds think alike, Natasha.  I should have known I would find you somewhere in the vicinity today, lurking in the dark and viewing our old life.”_

_Loki’s words cut through the air like a knife as she flinched…just a little.  He didn’t set out today with the intention of finding her or vice versa.  No…they both showed up today, tormenting themselves as they observed their past.  That past that showed what once was, across a couple of rooftops…when they used to be happy.  They both showed up today, not looking for each other, but not surprised either at being in each other’s presence._

_“I really hope it’s a coincidence you’re on this rooftop, Loki.  If not, it means I’m getting rusty and need to sharpen my ability to sneak around,” Natasha joked._

_The truth was they’d both spotted each other, separately, at the wedding a little earlier.  It was in a large city park.  Natasha was a runner on the trail, and Loki was dressed as a fisherman, as comical as it sounded._

_They both blended into the landscape and busy space perfectly, but Natasha spotted Loki first on her second trip around her path.  The first time she saw the ‘fisherman’ observing the wedding, she thought it was cute.  She couldn’t blame anyone for watching…Bucky and Wanda were so sweet and happy, that anyone could be attracted to their ceremony._

_But on her second time around, Natasha caught him staring again, and stopped as she pretended to stretch from behind a tree, out of site from anyone at the ceremony.  And then she noticed it was Loki._

_Great minds thought alike, indeed.  She tossed a rock into the pond right by his bench, causing him to look in her direction, just as she started running again.  Natasha looked back at him, letting just a strand of red hair escape from her hat for a moment._

_It was long enough for Loki to catch the flash of red and the image of the runner.  His interest was piqued as a flare went off in his brain.  Soon after, he was following his instinct **and** the runner, instead of following the wedding party.  He followed her all the way to this rooftop.  His hunch had been right, but Natasha had orchestrated the whole thing._

_So here they both stood, sheltered in the shadows of night, staring at their past as the wedding reception started to really liven up.  They saw Wanda smash some cake into Bucky’s face as they giggled at each other.  Bucky Barnes giggling from happiness…if that’s not enough to make the biggest cynic smile, nothing would be._

_Despite the flat jokes they just exchanged and the sounds of excitement across the darkness, the mood between Loki and Natasha could only be described as a mixture of solemnity and despair.  They both had pain in their hearts, but didn’t speak of it right away.  Loki stared at his former best friend, in her beautiful wedding gown, wishing silently he could have stood up for her…thinking he should be giving the wedding toast of a lifetime right now._

_And Natasha…sure she wished she could’ve stood up for Wanda and Bucky, but her pain ran **much**  deeper.  The wedding symbolized a joining of families.  Wanda became part of the Rogers’ family today, and Natasha was filled with heartache, and regret, and a little jealousy…if she was being brutally honest (which she was). _

_Natasha had thought for so long that she would be joining the Rogers family…along with Wanda.  More than anything though, seeing Wanda in her dress stabbed at her heart._

_During their five years together, Natasha had thought so many times, of her and Steve’s possible wedding someday…especially the last couple of years when her and Steve lived together._

_So, when she looked at Bucky and Wanda kissing on the dancefloor now, sharing their first dance as man and wife…all she really saw, was a dream.  Her dream.  She saw herself, in her own dress…herself and Steve kissing.  She saw Sarah and Bucky and Wanda…and all their friends cheering and clapping and laughing with joy for them as they began their own marriage._

_But that dream ended when Natasha left._

_Loki broke her train of thought, “You know Natasha.  I’m not known for being the level-headed member of any group…I never have been.  But us…being here now.  We’re playing a dangerous game travelling down these roads to our past.”_

_“I don’t know if the game we’re in can get any more dangerous, Loki.  You’re on the FBI’s most wanted list officially, and I’m pretty sure I’m only years away from it, if my handlers have anything to say about it.”_

_No emotion came out of her mouth as she stared at Steve, now joining all of his current and former FBI team members at the bar, raising a glass to Wanda and Bucky on the dancefloor._

_Natasha didn’t move, but continued, “Since we’re both here though…I do regret something with you, Loki.  I regret not standing up for you to Fury, when everything happened with you and the NSA two years ago…after your father went to prison.  And I want you to know that I’m so sorry for what happened to your mother.”_

_The first sign of true emotion ran through Natasha as her voice fluctuated, “I didn’t know her well, but the few times I met her over the years, she was always so lovely.  I always remember thinking you had her eyes.  I think you have her heart too…whether or not you’re willing to accept that, you should still hear it.”_

_He answered, sounding a little emotional himself, “Thank you, Natasha.  She was kind, but not well at the end, and didn’t listen to any reason.  How could she, when no **reason**  was being granted to her by the public or her friends.  Believe me though…You have nothing to apologize to me for.”_

_Loki accepted her apology, even though he said otherwise, and even though that wasn’t why he was here._

_Natasha watched as Bucky dipped Wanda on the dancefloor again for another kiss, met by a few whistles, “I regret a lot of other things too, Loki.  Seeing how happy Wanda and Bucky are right now…even I can’t deny how much I miss them.  It’s okay if you admit it too.  We’re in the shadows, far away from them.  And you know me, I won’t judge you for it.”_

_Loki answered, “If I let those emotions in, so much more comes with it, Natasha.  I came here to see my past off, once and for all…not feeling sorry at all for finding the life that I was meant to live.”_

_Natasha smirked at him as she turned her head enough to catch his eye as she arched her brow, “Like I said, Loki.  I don’t judge.  We all have our own paths we have to lead, for whatever reasons that started us on them.  But I know it’s more than that for you.  You didn’t come here to turn your nose up at what we once had.  You came here because you miss **them**.  You miss  **all**  of it.  And that’s okay.”_

_He turned to stare at her as she turned her head back to the reception.  She looked lost, dressed all in black, trying to show how much of a fighter she was.  But in that moment, he saw all of her pain and agony etched on her face.  He could see it plain as day, because her eyes were in a trance, locked on Steve._

_She felt Loki staring at her, knowing that he was picking up on the obvious direction of her gaze.  Her voice became dry as she said, “I think you’re right Loki, this is a dangerous game we’re playing.”_

_Right at that same moment, because time apparently always had it out for her, trying to cause her as much pain as possible, she heard Sam on the microphone again.  The music had stopped after Bucky and Wanda’s dance ended._

_“Ladies and Gentlemen, what a way to kick off the dance.  Let’s hear it again, for Bucky and Wanda Barnes!”  Another set of whistles and cheers, “Before we all start dancing the night away, I think it’s time we have a few official toasts…and who else to start us off than the best man himself, the groom’s brother, Steve Rogers!”_

_Another set of cheers with Sam yelling as he joined his friends to listen, “Lead the way, Cap!”_

_Loki didn’t need to watch this part.  He stared at Natasha as her eyes glassed over, and she bit her lower lip with her teeth, to stop it from quivering._

_Since they were standing a couple of rooftops away, Steve’s voice should have come across as muted.  Instead, it coursed through the air and filtered into Natasha’s ears like a bullet…she heard every word._

_“Thanks Sam for that…enthusiastic introduction.  I think everyone here can feel how happy Bucky and Wanda are…it’s radiating off of them.”_

_Wanda and Bucky came to stand by Steve as he continued, “I really hope the two of you can feel that same energy coming from everyone else because we’re all just as happy for the two of you…I mean it, I **really**  am so happy for the two of you.”_

_It was like Steve was speaking to everyone present, because they all had a sadness in their hearts for him, trying to understand what he must be feeling in this moment.  But he soldiered on, “Wanda, I’m sure you’ve caught glimpses of it, and have been made well aware of how…protective and loyal our mother raised us to be to one another.”_

_Laughter rang through, cutting some of the tension and Natasha smiled, knowing everything Steve was saying was heartfelt and honest, “Well, all of that is definitely true.  Sarah Rogers did raise her Brooklyn Boys to count on each other and be there for one another, no matter what.  But I wanted to clue you in on another part…that loyalty extends to you know too.  You’re officially part of this Rogers / Barnes family, so I hope you know what you’re in for.”_

_Another round of laughs as Bucky yelled out, “She has no idea, Steve!”_

_Steve grinned but became a little serious again as he turned to his brother, “And Buck…what else can I say, except that part of your vows today…for better and worse…through sickness and health…well, those parts kind of describe our lives don’t they?  The worse parts have only been made better by having you as a brother.  And I know…I know what a pain in the ass I can be sometimes…and have been.”_

_Steve took a breath as Natasha mirrored him, only hers was a little uneven._

_“But I’ll always be there for you…always.  As a best friend…as a brother…as a team member – I’ll be there for you as you start your journey as a husband.  Just like you’ve **always**  been there for me…through thick and thin.”  _

_Steve paused as Natasha’s breath hitched, “So, Buck…just remember, and Wanda, remember that this includes you now too.  Remember we’re family, all of us.  And that I’m with you until the end of the line.  I wish you both the best and all the happiness in the world because you deserve it.  Let’s all raise our glasses for my brother and my new sister-in-law.”_

_There wasn’t a dry eye in the house…or on the rooftop in this case.  Their friends were wiping their tears from their faces.  Sarah and Wanda had been handed tissues they were both using.  Bucky even had stopped grinning as he rubbed his eyes and walked over to his brother to pull him into a large embrace.  Guests began clapping and cheering for the display of brotherly love because everyone knew…_

_Everyone knew the meaning behind all of Steve’s words.  There was an undercurrent of pain and heartbreak just beneath his surface, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t genuine.  Steve, if nothing else, was genuine with his words.  Words mattered to him…more to him than most.  And everyone felt that sincerity from his toast and blessing, to his brother and new bride._

_The music started up again as Wanda and Sarah joined in the family hug.  Hearing and watching the touching scene, Natasha couldn’t stop the tears that came down her face as she wiped them away, trying to wipe the pain and memories away as well._

_It was enough to even make Loki frown._

_His misplaced hatred for most of the individuals on the rooftop across the way, is what cleared his conscience…or at least blocked it while he began his life as a criminal.  He still had a soft spot for Wanda, but he never felt any ill will towards Natasha._

_Probably because Loki had heard that she betrayed the team, ran away from the love of her life, and had been working with her handlers for the last two years.  He didn’t know the reasoning, but he didn’t need to.  The pain and love on her face was evident to him, that she really didn’t have a choice…or if she did, it was an impossible choice for her to make._

_And Steve and Natasha’s love was one for the ages, so seeing her in so much pain, and hearing that same pain in Steve’s voice a minute ago, even had Loki feeling **something**  as spoke to her._

_“You know, Natasha…I know there’s a mixture of regret, forgiveness, and pain in our conversation tonight.  We’ve hinted around a lot of it, not needing to dive into the weeds.  But if there is one thing I’m sure of, it’s that the man that just spoke is probably feeling the same things you are right now.  I don’t know what happened, and I don’t need to.  Remember, I’m like you…I don’t judge.  Well, I don’t judge **you**  at least.”_

_Natasha looked over at him as he continued, “And if I were a betting man, which I am…I would bet that Rogers would take you back, despite everything.  I know some people say that you can never go back…but there’s always an exception to colloquialisms and rules.  And the two of you are the exception.  Natasha, you can always find your way back to Rogers.”_

_She shut her eyes and turned away, biting down on her lip hard enough to draw blood as a heavy sounding breath came through her nose, “Don’t, Loki…don’t do that.”_

_Her words were dripping with conviction…so much that Loki shut up and listened, “I know you believe the words you just said.  I felt that way when I was with Steve too.  But there are things that even you, in your criminal underworld don’t understand.  My handlers always told me love was for children.  And in a way, for the five years I was with Steve, I think I finally felt like a child…or normal at least.  But that wasn’t reality.  My brother tried to warn me, and then I pulled him in too, convincing even him that love could save us, and we could have a life…But love is a wicked temptress isn’t it?”_

_The way Natasha was talking pained Loki.  His motivations and anger towards people in his life fed his actions and words, but deep down, Loki knew his path was of his own choosing._

_Natasha’s words, and the way she was speaking with certainty, let him know her world was one she was forced into.  One that sunk it’s hooks into her and wouldn’t let her go._

_She spoke again, “I’ve had this reoccurring dream through my life, about me as a child.  It was always a mixture of people from my childhood, yelling at me that I’ll never be free.  I thought it was just old demons trying to haunt me when I was with Steve.  Now I see that it was simply a warning statement.  An omen, telling me that my future has been set in stone ever since Clint and I were forced into it.  So, Loki, please don’t try to tell me that I could have a life with Steve again.  Because I can’t, and it’s not because he wouldn’t forgive me.  It’s because the people in my brother’s and my life simply won’t allow it.”_

_Loki was speechless._

_He didn’t have any words or quips or comebacks because he understood.  Not the details, but he understood what she was saying.  Regardless of how sincere he was being, Loki’s false sense of hope only caused her more pain, so he didn’t say anything else._

_Instead, Natasha and Loki stood there as Wanda danced with Fury.  And as Bucky, then Steve, danced with their mother.  They watched as their old friends and team all joined together by the bar again and took a round of shots together.  They were quiet as they saw the former team circle Bucky and Wanda, cheering them on to kiss again, and as they all went onto the dancefloor to dance the night away._

_Loki put his hand on Natasha’s shoulder, breaking her from the trance of the party, “I think I should go.  I’ve had enough sugar intake from watching this sweetness to give me a mouthful of cavities.”_

_Natasha attempted a smile and turned to him.  “You don’t need it from me, Loki.  But I do forgive you…now you just need to forgive yourself.  I hope someday you can.  Be safe as you work through what you need to.”_

_She leaned up and placed a kiss on his cheek.  There was a finality in the feel of it that chilled him.  Loki knew well enough that any well wishes or thoughts of safety was a foolish thing to say to her.  The world she lived in now, and in some ways has always lived in, made his life of crime look like a school for toddlers.  And if he tried to fight her, to somehow protect her, well…she’d kick his ass in the blink of an eye._

_He understood.  This was it.  This was goodbye from her to him._

_Loki took the kiss, squeezed Natasha’s shoulder and tried to give her a smile, but it wouldn’t come.  So, he simply said, “You may not have control over your life…for reasons you can’t and won’t say.  But you do have control of something you just told me to do…forgive yourself, Natasha.”_

_And he walked away, having a feeling tonight would be the last time he saw her…he just hoped that his instincts this time, were wrong._

_Natasha watched the wedding celebration for a couple minutes longer.  It wasn’t that she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the dancefloor where mostly everyone was at, celebrating with Wanda and Bucky.  It was that she **couldn’t**  stop staring at Steve.  She had figured out a way to sneak off for the evening – to have this for herself.  And she wanted to take in as much of him as she could, no matter how much it hurt. _

_Natasha didn’t know that in almost a year from now, he would track her down in Russia.  She didn’t know that in three years from now, they would meet up at a cabin away from the city.  And she could never have predicted in five years from now, that he’d be rushing off to risk his own life, trying to save hers._

_The life her handlers had mapped out for her, meant she probably wasn’t long for this world…her or Clint.  For all she knew, she thought this might be the last time she saw him._

_So, to hell with everything, Natasha thought.  She was going to linger a little longer._

_Steve wasn’t on the dancefloor.  He smiled, watching with his mother as she gave him a hug.  And then she was nudged by him to join the dancing as Wanda called for her.  And then he went to get another drink and walked to the edge of the rooftop to look out at the night sky again, just as he’d started the evening.  Only he was on a different side of the building now, looking straight in Natasha’s direction._

_Her heart started thumping loudly as he continued to stare…almost directly at her.  It was like he could feel her presence in the air.  God, did she want to call out and run to him.  What she would give to feel his hands and lips and body against hers again.  What she would do to have their life again…for it to be her and him on the dancefloor…_

_But that wasn’t her life.  Her memories weren’t reality._

_And her reality was calling.  She needed to go._

_Clint was waiting for her and had completed their mission on his own today, so she could have this…as short lived as it was.  As she mentally prepared herself to leave the site of Steve, her nerves started firing, and her heart started screaming at herself, trying to keep her in place._

_This wasn’t just exposing herself to an old wound.  Her heart never recovered from leaving him.  It was only held together with thick and ugly scarring that formed over the last two years as she dove fully into what her handlers required of her._

_Right now, that scar screamed in excruciating pain…because Natasha was leaving him again.  And it was like she was taking a serrated blade, jaggedly cutting it open._

_She had to get out of there because she didn’t trust herself with him watching near her.  He was too close, and if he saw her, or even had a hunch, the chase would be on._

_So she peeled herself away from the wall, slinked to the ground and crawled over to the door on the other side of her rooftop, hidden to the reception.  She looked back, taking in one more glance, and wiped her tears away as she left…again._

* * *

**Present Day –** FBI HQ

“Wanda, are you telling me Loki and Natasha were at our wedding?” 

Bucky asked his wife the question in disbelief.  He had left the conference room in a fit of anger, letting his worry for his brother get the best of him. 

So, he called his mom to just say hi.  He was careful to not say anything more and spoke to Peter for a few minutes before his son went to watch a little TV before his bedtime.  Speaking to them had calmed Bucky down as Wanda found him after her conversation with Loki.

“Yeah, he said they were both in the same park, separately watching, and then he found her on a nearby rooftop and they watched the reception,” Wanda answered.

She grabbed Bucky’s hand, “James…if it would’ve come from anyone else, maybe it would be creepy, but knowing where their lives were…I don’t know, it just seems sad.  There was nothing else for Loki to say.  They didn’t meet up on purpose…they were both just staring at their past…or at least that’s how he put it.  He said Natasha was really shaken by the whole thing, but they parted ways separately and that was it.”

For a brief moment, Wanda was worried that her husband would have been upset, but he wasn’t.  

Bucky wasn’t even pissed off at Loki before, when he yelled in the conference room…it was this whole situation.  It was feeling out of control…it was being scared for his brother.  But it was Natasha too.  He had loved her.  So did Wanda.  They all did.  And the five years after Quantico, they really did become a solid FBI family. 

And Steve and Natasha became really close with Bucky and Wanda.  It was the first time all day, that Bucky finally allowed himself to realize that it wasn’t just Steve’s life on the line.  It was Natasha’s…and once he went past his anger for her, for what she did to Steve and all of them…he realized he still missed her, and what that time in their lives represented. 

So hearing that she was watching their wedding reception, knowing fully that she was watching and imagining hers and Steve’s wedding…because that’s what Steve was doing the entire evening of the party…it was just a little too much for him to be angry at right now.

Instead, Bucky pulled Wanda into a hug, “Have I told you recently that I love you so damn much, Wanda?  And that I’m really… _really_  happy that I didn’t fall in love with someone who was forced into a Russian spy program?”

Today was a whirlwind, so she was happy to be with him for a moment, “You know James…I don’t know if that actually says much about us…if you’re insinuating that we’re the most normal part of your family.”

He let out a chuckle, and held her for a little longer before he knew it had to end, “Come on Wanda, I think you and Bruce are stuck working with Loki, and me and Sam will be with Tony, trying to figure out anything we can over the next couple of hours.”

* * *

An hour into their searching, and Bruce and Wanda were discouraged. 

The stones they were turning over on the internet, were coming up empty.  It wasn’t that they actually thought they would find Steve or Natasha or Clint through their lab or computer resources.  It was just that they weren’t finding  **anything**. 

And Fury had put Loki with them.  But Wanda had relegated him to searching through materials that she gave to him,  **without**  internet access over the last hour. 

So, an hour in, Wanda actually smacked her computer with the side of her hand out of frustration, while Bruce let out a heavy sigh.

Loki smiled, “You know, Wanda.  Violence is never the best option…especially with electronics.  Fury told us to use whatever means we had to for this.  Why don’t you let me show you what I can do in your system?” 

Loki looked at her and she looked to Bruce. 

Bruce thought Loki should’ve tried an hour ago, but Wanda’s guard was up still with him.  She drummed her fingers on the metal table for a second before relenting, feeling the pressure of the time constraints they were under, “Fine but I’m watching the entire time, Loki…and I’ll shut the entire system down if you try anything.”

Deep down, she was glad that Loki was with them.  She had meant it when she apologized to him.  She really did.  But seven years is a long time, and it was going to take work to rebuild their trust.

Loki grinned, “I would expect nothing less from you, Dear.”  He cracked his knuckles and walked over to the main computer in the lab.  Loki knew he was on thin ice with Fury’s deal, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to have a little fun.  “It’s not that you aren’t able, Wanda.  It’s that you’re not looking in the right places…”

Wanda raised her eyebrow at him while Bruce started looking into some government databases.  “Don’t look at me like that.  I distinctly remember you being pretty gifted at snooping around TOR databases on the Dark Web back in the day.  You’ve just become too acclimated at playing by the rules.”

The irony was not missed on Loki that he was pretty much doing the same exact thing – hacking into a government database – right now, that he’d done seven years ago, resulting in his removal from the FBI. 

But Fury and the team were behind this task-force…partially because seven years of aging and experience taught them harsh lessons.  Partially because Poseidon was a looming threat, and the team had to rely on each other because they didn’t’ know how far this threat reached internationally.  And not to mention, they were all trying to help find and hopefully, save Steve and Natasha.

Within a couple of minutes, Loki had touched base with a couple of his criminal contacts who gave him some ‘off the books’ information.  He looked at where Bruce was currently searching – The State Department.

“Oh Brucie, my dear boy.  You are not going to find anything on an official government website.  But that is as good of a place to start as any.  Poseidon has international ties all of the world.  The State department does as well, so we have to look in their backdoor to see if we can find anything crossing over…and I don’t mean  _that_ type of backdoor.  Get your mind out of the gutter, you two.”

Bruce rolled his eyes at Loki’s sexual reference and Wanda tried to.  But there was a glint in Loki’s eyes as he worked relentlessly at the keyboard…she couldn’t help but smirk. 

Five minutes later, Loki was creating a document, over a 1000-pages, with GPS satellite locations.  “Loki, this is showing us locations, but what’s the connection?” Bruce asked. 

Loki grinned, “Well we have the dates, timestamps, and locations of every call made from anywhere in the State Department in the last five years.  There is a protected encryption that blocks the actual numbers, but I hacked the cellular tower that connects with any phone out of the area, so I could get the other information.”

Wanda stepped in and took the data and had it sorted within another five minutes.  She narrowed down the 1000 pages, reducing it to under 100 by including certain parameters that Bruce helped her with.  “There, that should make our searching a little easier.” 

“Well, look at what a good team the three of us still make,” Loki said. 

The next thing they knew, the three of them were sorting through the 100 pages and highlighting any data points, that showed GPS pinged locations in and around Russia, at odd times of the day.  It wouldn’t catch every suspicious call, but it might show a pattern. 

15 minutes later, they were done and put the highlighted lines together, and they started to see a pattern. 

Bruce noticed first, “The new cabinet and President took over three years ago.  If you look prior to that, there’s far fewer odd GPS connections with Russia and surrounding areas.  But after the new regime was in office, look…”

Wanda grabbed her laptop and started entering in the data, and created a chart minutes later. 

She projected it on screen and said, “Jesus.  Bruce, go get Fury…Loki, look.  The data points were slowly increasing with the switch in the State Department staffing, after the inauguration three years ago.  Normally, I wouldn’t be too worried.  Something like that could usually be as meaningless as having five staff members being married to someone, or having family overseas…or something like that.”

Loki watched her brain tick.  He had already jumped to the conclusion she was getting at, but he wanted her to make the connection. 

She continued, “Yeah, there were steady increases until two years ago, then there was an uptick in activity.  And 18 months ago, there is sharper surge…when we all thought Natasha had died.  But look at the last few months…the contacts with Russia and surrounding areas have had such a large spike in activity, that it’s almost off the charts.”

“Wanda, connect the dots.  We don’t know who is making the calls, but what does the data tell you?” Loki asked. 

It unnerved her, as her throat became a little dry, “Loki, there is someone…or possibly more than someone…making contact at suspicious times in an alarming volume with someone…or  **people**  in Russia…that I’m betting is off-books and not sanctioned by the government.”

Loki chuckled, “Well that’s the politest way to put it.”  She rolled her eyes at him, “Well how would you put it, Loki?”

He grinned, “Wanda my dear, this doesn’t pass the smell test.  The State Department has an infestation…of rats.  Specifically, rats that work for Poseidon.  This isn’t just one person and you know it.  And  _rats_  don’t just live in one area of this government.  Washington is crawling with them…literally.  I’m betting if we start peeking behind the other Departments’ curtains, we’re going to find similar data.”

Wanda took in the overwhelming feeling of how high the reaches of Poseidon possibly went.  And not only in far off countries, but here at home in America.  Her face paled, “Holy shit,” she whispered. 

* * *

**_12 Years Ago –_ **

_Natasha stirred, half opening her eyes._

_She felt Steve behind her, placing kisses along from her shoulder blade up to her neck as he brushed her hair out of the way with his nose.  His thumbs were skimming along her stomach, waking her up a little more._

_Natasha could tell that the sun wasn’t quite up, as she shifted in his arms and pushed back into him.  He chuckled, whispering into her ear, “Good morning, Nat.”  Natasha turned around now, so they were face-to-face with one another, with their noses almost touching, “You say that like it **is**  morning, Steve.  But newsflash, the sun isn’t up yet…so you can’t say that word.”_

_He found her lips and kissed her as his hand went to her hip, “Oh, I know.  And I also know that I have a plan for our day, that starts in about an hour at sunrise…so that still gives us plenty of time.”_

_Now Natasha was grinning as she nudged her hips a little closer to Steve, reaching around his waist to grab a tight hold on him, “I wonder what we’ll do with that hour you speak of, Soldier.”_

_They looked disheveled from the previous night, but it didn’t matter.  You would have thought the two of them had their evening’s finest attire on, with the way their breathing started increasing and their eyes darkened.  That was all Steve and Natasha…not being able to get enough of one another, and being young and very much in love, as they had first told each other only a few hours ago._

_They had opened Pandora’s Box last night with regards to their love and need for each other, and they were just getting started.  And Natasha was going to enjoy the ride this weekend.  The meeting with Clint had bombed fantastically last night, but Steve helped her through it, and she shared everything she possibly could.  They connected…they said, ‘I love you,’ and they made love, all while fully trusting one another._

_Steve didn’t draw anything out this morning…he was on a time constraint after all._

_So, after feeling with his very eager hands, how ready Natasha was for him, Steve was inside of her again, not even three minutes after her waking up.  Five minutes later, she was on top of him, guiding both of them through their unrestrained sounds.  Several minutes after that, he flipped her so she was back underneath him, as their bodies stayed entangled.  Both of them panted in exquisite pleasure as she touched herself, pushing her body to meet its climax along with his.  And then he was collapsed beside her, with both of them breathing heavily and murmuring ‘I love you,’ through a sex-drunk haze._

_Steve and Natasha both had a feeling before yesterday, that once they’d started having sex, the yearning between them would only grow.  Well, their inclination had been right._

_“You mentioned plans Steve…I don’t know if we’re going to make it out of this bed, never mind the hotel…I don’t think you really thought out this **plan** of yours.”  She joked as she rested against his chest. _

_Never question Steve Rogers’ ability to be an early riser and go-getter.  Nor imply that he’s not going to be able to do something.  Natasha knew that, but she loved seeing his reaction._

_Steve hopped out of bed and was around, on her side within seconds, as she took in the view.  Natasha gave him a lazy smirk, looking incredibly well-fucked already, and that wasn’t even part of his plans for the day…at least not officially._

_Steve bent over and held her hand as his other one ran up and down her thigh.  He leaned into another kiss, whispering, “If I didn’t know any better, Nat…I’d say you’re challenging me…I’m a soldier, remember?  And I plan to see to it that every detail of this mission is met.”_

_Right as she was about to laugh at him and call him an idiot, Natasha yelped because he was picking her up, gripping her hand and thigh, and tossing her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, “Steve, what are you doing?” Natasha shrieked playfully._

_But he didn’t answer.  Steve carried her into the bathroom and luxurious shower to clean themselves up.  A couple of minutes later his head was buried between her legs, and not long after, he was holding her up against the wall as they fell into each other’s endless passion once again._

_So, never let it be said that Steve Rogers can’t meet a challenge.  They could have fun in **and**  out of the bedroom today._

_Wanting to enjoy every second of their small time away from reality, Steve and Natasha decided not to let the negative events from the beginning of their Friday evening effect the rest of their weekend, so they agreed to just live in the moment and have the best day they possibly could._

_And that they did, which left them running out the door, freshly cleaned, with damp hair, and now fully-clothed.  They grabbed a coffee in the lobby for their hike at sunrise, and Natasha blushed, thinking of all they had done before the sun was even up._

_On their way back from the hike, they found a park honoring veterans, and they walked through and read each memorial statue, paying their respects._

_That led them to renting bikes and riding them around the lake trail during the early morning, which helped them find a local farmer’s market that was very busy for a small town, showing the locals supported their vendors.  They sampled fresh fruit and strawberry smoothies as they did a little shopping at a street fair and met a few locals._

_Apparently this town’s inhabitants were early risers too.  She was beginning to see why Steve picked the place._

_Natasha had a little watermelon juice running down her chin as she bit into the slice at the market, and Steve couldn’t help but notice how beautiful she looked in her white tee and cut-off shorts, “What are you looking at, Rogers?”  Natasha smirked, wiping her chin as he answered, “Just picturing another image of something I’m going to draw later.”_

_On their way back to the hotel, they passed by a public dock.  They had both started sweating as the temperature was already in the mid-80’s, and it was almost lunch time._

_Steve looked a little reluctant, knowing that the lake was still a little cold.  But Natasha…this had her daring spirit written all over it.  She dropped her backpack down on the ground and slid her shorts and tee off, leaving her in a two-piece, athletic navy swimsuit, “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of shrinkage, Soldier…let me tell you from first-hand experience…I think you’ll be fine.”_

_And she was off with Steve laughing at her prodding, and soon chasing after her as he dropped his bag and shirt off as well, “You know what, Romanoff...,” Steve yelled as he jumped in behind her.  It was cold, but they warmed up quickly as they enjoyed a brief swim, splashing and kissing, and joking with each other.  It was effortlessly fun and spontaneous, just how a young couple in love should feel._

_They came back to a clean room and almost collapsed on the bed from a busy and beautiful morning._

_Almost…_

_Just as Steve was about to lie down, he heard, “You know, since we have our swimsuits on…”_

_Steve had grabbed a couple of waters from the fridge and saw Natasha taking her cutoffs off again as she was walking out to the deck.  The next thing they knew, they were in the hot tub, letting the warm jets massage their tired muscles.  It had been an eventful morning, so a relaxing lunch and afternoon sounded perfect_

_“I think I could stay here forever, Steve.”  Natasha had her eyes closed, letting the rolling warm water run over her as she sat between his legs._

_Steve smiled as he kissed her head, “Do you mean in the hot tub, in this town, or between my legs?”  Natasha pinched his thigh with him faking being hurt, “Do I have to pick one of them?  I mean I’m kind of having my cake and eating it too right now…”_

_They soaked in the relaxation, they napped, and they ended up making love, yet again in the late afternoon, in front of the fireplace before showering again and getting ready for the evening._

* * *

_Enjoying a couple of drinks, with the music playing, Natasha and Steve were ready for their evening.  Their normal attire consisted of clean lines and dark colors, showing their attractive, but serious sides.  On a whim, they both decided to buy clothing at the market this morning from a local merchant, fully leaning into the fun and relaxed atmosphere exuded by the town._

_Natasha joked, “When in Rome…”_

_Steve wore khaki linen pants, a short-sleeved blue linen button down, and brown leather sandals.  Natasha wore a long strapless maxi dress, that bunched right under her chest and had a high slit up her right thigh as it flowed down to her feet.  It was black with green peonies and white lilies scattered throughout.  She wore camel colored gladiator sandals and had her hair in loose waves._

_Steve grabbed her sweater to carry as they both brought their sunglasses for the start of their evening.  First, they went on a sunset cruise around the lake on one of the tour boats.  The same colors of reds and oranges that welcomed them only 24 hours ago, made up the background of a photo they had taken of them.  It was one of many snapshots of the memories they’d created today._

_Natasha smiled as she looked at their sunset photo, “It’s good we have evidence of what we’re wearing.  I don’t think any of our friends would believe it if we told them.”_

_After a delicious dinner, they walked along the strip of restaurants and bars until they found an outdoor patio and live music.  The bar was called ‘Dock’s End,’ and was fitting with its proximity to the shore of the lake.  String lights covered the patio where the live musician played.  When Natasha and Steve first walked in with their drinks, they couldn’t help but pause at the glowing ambience._

_The warm lighting cascaded into the night sky.  “Wow, this almost looks like that painting, ‘Starry Night,’” Natasha said as they found a high bar table with two open seats.  “I thought I was supposed to be the one who knew art, Nat,” Steve said as he took a drink.  She raised her eyebrows teasingly as she crossed her legs under the table, exposing her thigh from the high slit in her dress._

_Pandora’s box._

_Steve leaned over to her ear, sliding his hand up her thigh, “I know I had a plan, but I’m suddenly feeling more flexible, like I want to cut our evening short.”_

_Natasha huffed out a breath as she took a drink, “I thought I was supposed to be the aggressive flirt between the two of us?”  Steve raised his eyebrows at her, “What can I say?  Circumstances change, and I don’t think you realize what you’re doing to me.”_

_She pretended to roll her eyes but couldn’t complete the move as she felt his thumb moving back and forth on her skin…not so high where it would be inappropriate, but high enough to cause her to feel flustered, “Flattery will get you nowhere, Soldier.”_

_Steve stopped moving his hand, and gripped it a little firmer around her skin instead, “Hmm…I think I’m going to call bullshit, Nat.  I think in this particular instance; flattery is getting me **everywhere**.”  He grinned as he saw her swallow and let out a slow breath. _

_But Natasha saw the smug look on his face and composed herself, switching the direction that her legs were crossed and moving away from his hand altogether.  She winked at him as she saw his brow furrow in frustration as she took another drink, “I’m going to tell you something you’ve been trying to tell me for the last month, Soldier…patience.”_

_She let out a laugh, and he couldn’t help but do the same.  They were being ridiculous, getting lost in their own little world.  It’s what Steve wanted when he planned the weekend, and it’s exactly what they needed.  Their self-imposed tension calmed down as they turned their attention to the live music, with Natasha scooting her chair closer to Steve’s.  The singer and band’s music increased to an upbeat beach tempo as the dance floor started to fill._

_Natasha smirked as a thought dawned.  She hopped off her stool and went to a middle-aged couple who were obvious locals and frequenters of the establishment and asked them if they could look after their items at the table if they left them for a few minutes.  They smiled and happily obliged, commenting on how beautiful a couple her and Steve were._

_Steve looked at her questioningly as she came back to their table but didn’t sit down.  She grabbed his drink and placed it on the table along with hers and hooked her index finger inside the v of his shirt and pulled herself toward him and whispered, “I think it’s about time you show me your moves outside of the bedroom, Rogers.”_

_Steve stood but stopped, grabbing her wrist gently as his reluctance showed, “Natasha…fighting, guns, military…I’ve always been great with…But dancing, not so much.”_

_Steve ran his hand on the back of his neck, and Natasha smiled.  He was absolutely adorable, showing her how nervous he was.  She stepped on her toes to reach his ear, “Steve, I’m not asking you to Samba…I’m just asking you to follow my lead and create another memory.”_

_Well, how could he say no to that?  He couldn’t._

_Steve knew he was already powerless under Natasha, so when she sauntered out to the dancefloor, he shouldn’t have been surprised that his feet were following as his hand found hers, letting her pull him to the middle of the floor._

_Natasha just grabbed both of Steve’s hands and said louder so he could hear, “Less thinking, more moving, Steve.  Just follow me.”  And he did.  And as he did, the awkwardness and nerves left him.  It wasn’t that he became a good dancer.  He wasn’t, but Natasha couldn’t care less.  It was that he was **so**   **good**  with her, whether it was training, running, in the bed as he recently found out, and now here. _

_Just like everywhere else, their connection transcended what they were doing, and they found out how they fit together in the moment…where they were at.  Finding their rhythm, they moved in sync to the music, and he was smiling.  One song turned into two, and before they knew it, they had been on the dancefloor for over twenty minutes._

_Steve even twirled her a few times and ended one song with a dip.  Holding her?  That he could handle with all sorts of ease, as a couple of whistles rang out at them._

_The music shifted into a slower tempo as the lead singer came through, “We’re gonna slow it down for a beat…grab someone close to you for one of our favorites.”  The band lowered the volume of their instruments so only the singer and the guitarist were heard as the melody began for an acoustic version of the song._

_Steve stopped right before the lyrics began.  It wasn’t spontaneous because he had thought about it before, but it was spontaneous in **this** moment.  He reached around his neck to grab his army tags.  He removed one of the tags and put it in his pocket.  He put the clasp back together, and draped the chain and tag around Natasha’s neck. _

_She looked down at the metal tag and then back at him, knowing that this was not a meaningless gesture.  Steve leaned down to whisper in her ear, “You’ve obviously seen how much I wear these…I don’t know why…I guess they’re just part of me.  I want you to have this one.”  He held it as he looked at her now, “I love you, Nat.  This way…I don’t know…I feel like we’ll always be connected or something.”_

_Maybe it sounded cheesy.  But it wasn’t to them._

_All Natasha knew was how genuine Steve was, as she became a little breathless staring at his sincere eyes and feeling a symbol of him on her._

_Natasha held the chain in her hand as she shut her eyes for a second.  She tucked it inside her dress, “I want it close to my heart.  Thank you…I love you, Steve.”  Her hands went around his neck and his around her waist, as they held each other close, and swayed to the words as the song began._

* * *

_‘Forever’ By Ben Harper_

_Not talkin' 'bout a year_  
_No not three or four_  
_I don't want that kind of forever_  
_In my life anymore_  
_Forever always seems_  
_To be around when it begins_  
_But forever never seems_  
_To be around when it ends_  
_So give me your forever_  
_Please your forever_  
_Not a day less will do, from you_

 _People spend so much time_  
_Every single day_  
_Runnin' 'round all over town_  
_Givin' their forever away_  
_But no not me, I won't let my forever roam_  
_And now I hope I can find my forever home_  
_So give me your forever_  
_Please your forever_  
_Not a day less will do, from you_

 _Like a hand-less clock with numbers_  
_An infinite of time_  
_No not the forever found_  
_Only in the mind_  
_Forever always seems_  
_To be around when things begin_  
_But forever never seems_  
_To be around when things end_  
_So give me your forever_  
_Please your forever_  
_Not a day less will do_  
_From you_

 

* * *

_The singer finished, “Thank you so much for coming out to listen to me tonight, folks.  We’re going to take a little break, and we’ll be back in twenty.”_

_Music can feel magical.  The beautiful thing about it sometimes, is that when a song is played in the right time and place and with the right person, it can drown everything else out.  That’s what it did with Steve and Natasha.  It felt like it was only them on the dancefloor and the song was played just for them._

_Steve lowered his forehead to hers as she said, “God, Steve.  I don’t know what it is…this place.  You.  Being with you…but that song, is how I feel about you.  I feel like you’re my forever.”_

_She let out a shaky breath as her hands ran along the nape of his neck.  Steve lifted her chin up, kissed her tenderly on the lips and smiled at her, “I don’t think it’s the place, Nat.  I think it’s us.  I feel like you’re my forever, too.  I love you.”_

_Even though the band was coming back on soon, they knew their evening was done.  They knew they needed to be back at their hotel…now.  He leaned down to give her a quick kiss and led her back to their table._

_They thanked the couple again for watching over their items, and the middle-aged woman smiled at them and said, “I couldn’t help myself, I had to take a couple of photos of the two of you on the dancefloor.  You just seemed like you were in your own little world and it was beautiful.”_

_Natasha blushed.  Apparently it wasn’t just them._

_They smiled as they looked through their camera, and the woman really had caught a couple of touching moments.  Steve dipping Natasha, them laughing together at a faster song, and their foreheads together during the last song.  They thanked the couple again as they left._

_Steve and Natasha decided to skip the cab ride, and instead, walked back under the starry sky, thinking of how incredible their day had been.  Natasha thought of the photos they’d taken throughout the day, and now the images that the couple had taken of her and Steve from tonight._

_She smiled at each of the snapshots of memories that would be cherished…forever._

* * *

**_2 years ago_ ** _– Cabin_

_The fire was dying down, and Steve was wide awake with his troubling thoughts._

_This whole weekend went well beyond any rabbit hole he’d gone down in the past, and that included tracking Natasha down in Russia two years ago._

_Steve had convinced himself back then, that he was still trying to do right by the law, before he went overseas to find her.  That he’d somehow bring her in to justice.  Well, his plan went to hell in a handbasket…in the blink of an eye._

_Steve returned from Russia not necessarily changed, but not in denial anymore.  His goal was to find her again…just to be with her, no matter how wrong and fucked up it was.  There was a calm resolution inside of himself for two years as he searched for her at night, bending and breaking rules he never thought he would.  It was a coping mechanism.  It would be viewed as wrong by any of his friends and family, but it calmed him.  If he was searching for her, he was doing something.  And that acceptance made him realize they were joined forever…no matter what happened._

_So, his goal after Russia was clear.  Find her and deal with the fallout after._

_Now that he **has**  found her, and the weekend already consisted of passion, love, fighting, and running after her, the reservoir of calming acceptance from the last two years was dwindling fast. _

_‘What happens next?’ was all he could think at the moment.  So, yeah…Steve was wide awake with troubling thoughts._

_Steve had held Natasha for an hour or so, warming her up after he brought her back from the cold rain.  She’d fallen asleep and was resting in his arms.  It wasn’t even 8 am, and they managed to have a huge fight, say hurtful words, endanger themselves in the cold, and become stark naked with each other in front of a fire – all before some people had even gotten to work in the morning.  Somehow, it didn’t surprise him with their history._

_He shook his head as he moved to put more wood on the open flame._

_Steve felt her fingers press into his side, “It’s okay…I’m just going to put some more logs in so the heat can keep going in here.”_

_Other people might be timid, being completely naked with someone else outside the throws of passion, but that had never been an issue with Natasha and Steve.  They’d always been comfortable with each other and knew each other’s bodies inside and out.  That was part of the reason why Steve was so thrown a couple of hours earlier in the loft.  The feel of her scars on her back sickened him._

_Whatever Natasha had experienced in the last five years, had been anything but good.  And whatever the stories were, behind the eerie tattoos on her back already unsettled him even though he didn’t know their meaning._

_He stood up to grab several more logs and placed them on the fire as the glow in the cabin increased from it.  The thunder and lightning were dying down, but a continuous rain had settled in for the day.  And it appeared like there wouldn’t be a break in moisture, since cloud coverage was overhead in every direction._

* * *

_Natasha was awake now, staring up at Steve as he put the wood in and came back to her._

_She wasn’t shivering anymore, but she was still a little chilled and her hair was still damp.  Steve had found her, carried her back here, and had warmed her up.  And it was not lost on her how incredible he looked, naked in front of her._

_What she would give for them to be here, just on a getaway weekend as a vacation from their normal life, and not the entirely screwed up reality as to why they were really here._

_A desire was always there between them, and always loomed just beneath the surface.  They’d given into it last night.  She had a feeling they’d always give into it when separation from each other factored in.  Absence makes the heart grow fonder after all._

_But, too much had been said upstairs, for them to ignore any sort of conversation right now.  Even though, all she wanted was to have him hold her again._

_Natasha looked closer at Steve and noticed some scarring on him that she hadn’t recognized earlier.  There was raised skin that was new to her eyes both on his thigh and his shoulder, but before she could ask him, he beat her to the same question._

_“What are the scars from?” Steve said in a quiet tone as he pulled the blankets around both of them and leaned back on the pillows against the sofa._

_Natasha shook her head in disbelief.  Great minds think alike…or something like that.  But with everything that was said earlier in the loft, she was still surprised that was the first thing out of his mouth._

_Steve had seen her tattoos, and had so many questions.  But the first question he asked was about her scars.  She could see the fear in his eyes – always wanting to protect her still.  But instead of using words at the moment, she decided to show him._

_Sitting up, Natasha sighed and turned her back toward him and dropped the blanket.  Even though she was completely naked, all Steve could see was her backside._

_Steve took in the entire image of her sitting directly in front of him, while warm glow of the fire surrounded them.  She was still **so**  damn beautiful that it took his breath away at first.  But his eyebrows knitted together as they had up in the loft, when he took in the all of the dark ink, invading the pale coloring of her back.  Steve’s heart, beat with painful thuds when he saw all the interruptions of her soft skin. _

_Soft skin that he had drawn and traced and kissed so many times.  But all he could see right now were those interruptions…those scars.  His fingers traced the long, thin scars on her lower left, right above the hammer and sickle tattoo with the Russian text.  He had guessed they were from a knife, but he wanted to hear it from her._

_They had always communicated in so many ways.  At times, with fire and stubbornness.  At others, with passion and lust.  But now, there was a silent understanding between each other._

_Steve’s touch to her skin – she craved it as always, but Natasha also knew what he was asking._

_Her voice was soft, just like his touch, “There was a fight with an assassin that was de-commissioned by Ivan and Oksana two years ago.  Right after Russia.  He had me pinned to the ground after he made the first cut, and then he made additional marks until I got free…I dislocated his knee and shot him in the stomach.”_

_Steve didn’t even plan it.  And it was awkward, but before she was even done talking, he moved closer and bent his head down, gently kissing the scars.  All he wanted to do was to try and take her pain away.  He couldn’t be there when it happened, but he was here now._

_Natasha was surprised at first, but relished in the feel of his lips on her skin.  The scars didn’t hurt, but that wasn’t the pain Steve was trying to ease.  Closing her eyes, she let it sink in, how close he was to her._

_But he was moving._

_Trailing up her back, his fingers found the burn marks at the top of her right shoulder, above the two-headed eagle tattoo.  Steve tensed, almost hovering over the scars with how lightly he was touching her.  They only made up a roughly three-inch section of skin.  The bumps of burned flesh were small, but poignant with their perfect lines and precise spacing._

_“There’s 28 of them, Steve,” Natasha started speaking quietly again, “I’m sure you counted.  It was part of my penance after I left you and the team, and returned to my handlers five years ago.”_

_“Why 28?” Steve whispered.  He felt like he couldn’t speak louder now if he tried._

_She answered, “I was 27 when I returned to them.  They told me I had 27 years of betrayal to make up for.  The extra one was to represent you.  They said I would always be reminded that you were part of my betrayal to them, Steve…and they’d never let me forget that.”_

_A chill ran down Steve’s spine as Natasha peeked over her shoulder at him nervously._

_They held each other’s stare for a moment, before he moved again._

_The familiar pull between them filled the air, right along with the warmth from the fire.  And Steve was drawn closer to her as he sat right behind her.  It was like they were on his motorcycle years ago when he’d let her drive._

_How distant that memory seemed right now._

_Natasha’s back was almost flush against Steve’s stomach as he wrapped his legs around hers, trying to surround her.  Running his hands up her sides, he paused along her ribcage, taking in the feel of her body…safe beneath his touch._

_Natasha always loved feeling safe from the trust of Steve’s body as he encompassed her.  And Steve felt the need equally.  He always wanted to be the one keeping her safe.  He couldn’t protect her from the scarring, but he could surround her now._

_He stared at the 28 burn marks and shut his eyes.  Natasha could feel his breath along her shoulder, and then she felt his lips.  Resting her chin on her shoulder, she watched him gently kiss her scars until his face was within an inch of hers._

_Moving his lips over her burns, Steve became overwhelmed.  He wanted to cry for her, but his stomach was in knots, imagining the pain she must have felt when they branded her flesh.  He hated the feeling, and he hated that she endured any of it._

_Natasha grabbed his thigh, trying to feel more of him.  Still not being enough, she pulled his arm around her and held it in hers against her stomach.  How could she not get lost in the feel of him as he tried to kiss away her pain, as impossible of a task as that was?_

_Natasha squeezed his hand as he moved to find the last of the scars that he’d discovered this morning.  She turned her head to the left, resting her chin on the opposite shoulder now, knowing where he was moving to._

_Steve found the bullet holes again, on the left side of her back, right underneath her shoulder blade…and close to her heart._

_He pressed his forehead against the two scars, knowing how close of a call it had been, and he couldn’t stop a couple of tears from falling now.  Pulling their hands up from her stomach, Steve grazed her breast to hold them both over her heart.  His fingers discovered what he feared as he whispered, “There’s no exit wound, Nat…There’s no exit wound from the shots.”_

_Steve kissed the circles of raised flesh over and over, as his hand pushed into her chest, feeling her heartbeat.  He let out a shaky breath, feeling how alive she was, but also feeling the evidence of how close he had come to never being able to feel her again._

_Natasha could sense how much he hurt for her, “The assassin I told you about before…who sliced up my back.  He crossed paths with me again about a year and a half ago.  He still had it out for me from the last time.  We fought, and I thought I had killed him.  He was on the ground, but apparently I didn’t finish the job.  I looked back at Clint as he ran to where we were.  The guy raised his gun and put two bullets through my back.  Clint shot him instantly, but it was too late.  The bullets were already in me.”_

_Steve pushed against her heart a little harder as he stopped kissing the scars and just breathed against her skin._

_“Steve, I saw everything flash before my eyes in those moments before I blacked out.  All I thought of was you, and Clint, and the team.  Mostly of you and me, and all of our memories…The times we said I love you.  Of us living together…of all the times we made love.”_

_She paused, feeling his hand over her heart as his mouth and beard ran along her back.  She focused on the fact that they were together now.  And right now, that was all that mattered as she continued, “Clint got me to the medics in our compound, and I was in a medically induced coma for two days.  The surgeries were successful, but recovery was lengthy.”  She laced her fingers in his, and Steve moved his other hand to cover theirs over her heart._

_Steve couldn’t explain it, but he had an unquenchable thirst to be closer to her as he brushed his cheek and beard along the scar, trying to tell himself that it was okay.  She was alive.  She survived…she always does because she is a survivor._

_No matter how tight he held her or how much he tried to kiss her skin right now, it wasn’t enough.  The tension in the air had thickened as they felt each other’s breathing increase._

_Natasha needed more too, moving her hand from his thigh, reaching behind him to feel his back.  She thought she had seen a couple of new scars on him earlier when he was getting logs for the fire, and she confirmed one of them now._

_Under her fingertips, she felt a grated pattern of skin under his ribs.  Almost like he’d been drug over gravel, or something uneven at a fast pace._

_He knew she was mapping his body just like he had, “A year ago, I chased a criminal on a motorcycle.  I side swiped him because we weren’t going that fast, but my flak jacket got caught in his bike handle as it tipped, and I was drug along with it for about 20 feet.  My jacket raised up enough, and caused enough friction against the road, to burn through my shirt and skin.”_

_Natasha’s fingers pushed against the rough patch as she looked back at him.  She leaned into his hold with as much pressure as she could, tilting her head back towards his face. Their bodies were becoming more entwined, like they were trying to fuse together._

_Natasha remembered Steve’s other scar she had seen earlier, and awkwardly reached over to feel a jagged puncture wound, on his right shoulder, “Steve, this feels like it was deep.”_

_Steve answered in a low voice, “Fight with an inmate on an undercover operation in a prison.  He and I had some exchanges prior to it, but he caught me off guard in the yard, and stabbed me with a shank made of broken glass and duct tape.  I went to the infirmary immediately and was out of the mission the same day.”_

_Steve looked at her fingers dance across the scar and it felt like medicine. **This**  was their medicine…being together.  Connecting in every way possible.  It always was.  Even when they were banged up and bruised from missions together, they always recovered together.  They always helped each other heal by being each other’s medicine._

_He leaned down to kiss her hand, and their eyes met again.  There weren’t any other scars to discover.  And the fact that they were both very naked, in a cabin in front of a rolling fire, caused their breathing to deepen and bodies to feel warm._

_The tension grew and their need to be closer had never been stronger._

* * *

_And so the pendulum of emotions was in full swing._

_It was this way at Quantico for both of them.  Every action caused an equal reaction._

_So, when the pendulum swung as they fought, it swung back as they made-up.  When they argued, they eventually calmed down.  When Natasha lied initially to Steve, he called her out and broke down her walls, and she equally worked through his, earning his trust._

_Five years ago, they were on a high, with that swing in full affect.  They lived in a blissful and ignorant state, believing Natasha’s ‘insurance’ had worked, and her handlers had given up, finally letting her and Clint go._

_Ignorance was bliss, and they were only too happy to vanish in it.  But then Natasha left, and their worlds were changed forever, leaving them both longing and alone.  It was more than the initial heartache though.  Her leaving caused a deep-rooted pain, and left a hole in both of their hearts, shattering their existences as they knew it._

_So, looking at this weekend as a microcosm of their relationship, the same rules applied.  It had been a desperate two years searching for her, and Steve found her last night.  Natasha felt just as frantic to see him again._

_First they clashed, and then they crashed **.** They crashed on top of the table, not being able to control their desire, so they embraced it._

_And then this morning happened and Steve found more darkness and more questions without answers.  He was scared and lashed out at her and she ran._

_Every action has a reaction.  They were in the reaction stage right now._

_And their reaction was trying to figure out the next move.  Natasha was between Steve’s legs, entirely naked pressed against his equally bare body, and they were stripped down emotionally._

_They’d charted each other’s bodies and discovered new scars.  And it only caused the air to feel charged around them.  It was such a similar feeling to the previous evening, but it was more intimate after their time together, causing their desire to grow._

_Steve still had so many more questions for her, and Natasha knew they were kicking the proverbial can of answers down the road, but they couldn’t help it.  They had a little time before Steve had to leave tomorrow, and they were going to absorb every goddamn second.  And they didn’t even need to say it to each other._

_They just knew._

_Because that was them.  The more they embraced their connection, the more they needed it…it was always that way…almost like an addiction.  And unlike their scars, it was something that hadn’t changed between them._

_A control was present between Steve and Natasha right now.  They knew they had time, and unlike the previous evening, they weren’t filled with the desperation of seeing each other the first time in years._

_Steve’s hand slid from her heart, now fully covering her breast.  They both were made aware of her excitement as her nipple hardened under his touch.  Still looking over her shoulder at him, Natasha felt him press harder into her back as his beard brushed along her skin._

_Natasha took a deep breath as Steve kissed her hair, and then her temple…and then her cheek…and then her jaw, “You are still so beautiful it almost hurts, Nat.”_

_Last night had been about them reconnecting.  A desperate feeling drove them because they hadn’t seen each other and a release was needed from their pent-up longing.  Right now, those feelings were present, but it was something more.  It was about rediscovering every part of each other, knowing they had all of today and tonight together._

_Steve’s hands pushed into her waist as his lips moved to the back of her neck.  She wrapped her arm around his head, threading her fingers through his still dampened hair.  Natasha felt how turned on he was as she arched her back, pressing her ass into him._

_She wanted him to feel how aroused she was too._

_Taking his hand at her waist, she slid them both down her hip.  Guiding them below her navel, their hands approached her soft hair, and he took over.  She let out a soft moan of encouragement as his fingers explored between her legs.  Steve kissed her shoulder through a shaky breath as he felt how wet she already was._

_Gliding down the path of her sex, Steve felt her warmth envelope his fingers.  Their breathing became heavy and Natasha’s hand moved back to his thigh, pushing down into it for release._

_“Steve,” was all she could murmur as she panted and began moving her back against his._

_He could feel and hear her.  He was touching her, running his fingers up and down the length of her slit as he pressed harder into her waist.  But it wasn’t enough._

_Steve needed to see her – all of her.  So, he quickly drew his legs back as he got on his knees behind her.  Natasha let out a breath of frustration as his hand moved away from her, but smiled as he kissed her wet hair.  The next thing she knew she was being lifted up in his arms.  Happy to see his face now, Natasha found his lips and whispered, “Where are we going?”_

_Steve wasn’t carrying her anywhere though, he simply picked her up and turned her around again so she could rest her head on the pillows and lay on their bed of blankets, facing the fire._

_She ran her fingers through his beard, staring up at him as he took in the site of her naked body, kneeling right beside her.  Natasha shoved the comforter away, and Steve kicked the other blanket that had been covering them.  They were warm enough._

_Steve was in front of her next, kneeling before her bent legs, running his hands down to her ankle and up to her knees.  Their eyes didn’t move from one another with the fire flickering behind him._

_There was something about this moment.  The rain hummed outside.  And they were secluded from the rest of the world, with none of the luxuries that life had to offer.  They literally only had shelter and water and the bare necessities of warmth around them.  But it was all they needed because right now, they had each other._

_Natasha watched Steve caress her legs and all she wanted was to feel his hands on her…and in her again.  Their eyes didn’t move, but they did darken as Steve moved between her.  She wet her lips and swallowed as he drew near, finally finding her mouth with his._

_At first it was gentle.  They were so in tune with each other, still, after all this time.  They knew exactly what the other one wanted and was feeling in this moment.  This was the easy part for them – the passion and desire._

_The muddled mess of emotions and truth was put on the back burner and could wait as their bodies took control of the situation._

_Steve covered her mouth with gentle kisses as he felt her breathing quicken.  It was slow and tenuous.  Both of them were trying to take every second in.  Her hands found his neck as she kissed him back._

_“Steve, I missed you.”_

_Her whisper was heard as their lips paused, barely touching each other, so they could feel each other’s air and words.  She said it last night, but the meaning behind them now, had a depth to them – it wasn’t just about physical touch.  It wasn’t just about their lives…It was about all of that, but more._

_What Natasha really meant was she missed **them**.  Their connection.  Their love and intimacy that only existed with each other and left a void after she left, never to be filled by another person.  The feeling that existed right now.      _

_Steve had held his breath as she said it and hadn’t realized it until he finally exhaled, “Yeah, Nat.  I’ve missed you too…so much.”  The need increased as their lips found each other again, this time with more urgency as their tongues found each other too.  The kiss was deeper and harder than before as he groaned into her mouth, “I’ve missed your lips, Natasha.”_

_Steve moved along the hollow of her cheek, up to her ear, “I’ve missed feeling how you tense as I whisper in your ear.”  And her body did tense as his hand ran along her side as the other braced himself._

_Steve kissed down the column of her neck, lingering over the same pulsing skin that he did last night, “Missed feeling your heartbeat right here.”  Natasha’s hands ran along his back as she let out a small gasp.  He nibbled down her throat, and over her collarbone as his hand slid up from her side to her breast._

_Her gasp turned into a whimper when he lightly pinched her nipple, “Right there, Nat.  God I’ve missed that sound.”  Her thighs rubbed against his legs as her fingers kneaded into his back._

_Steve moved again, until his kisses were over the middle of her chest.  His lips became a little more frantic as he kept kissing over her heart, knowing the scars from the bullets were on the other side of her.  Natasha’s heart was beating louder, and he could feel the thrumming under her skin._

_It wasn’t enough for only his mouth to feel the vibrations of her heartbeats._

_“I missed hearing you right there.”  First his nose brushed over the proof that she was alive.  Then his cheek.  Then she could feel his beard, and then his hand rub against her…And then, his forehead pressed into the beating sound as he took in a few breaths, letting the fear of almost losing her ebb into his thoughts._

_“Steve, I’m right here,” she whispered._

_Natasha moved one hand to his chin and raised it, looking right at him.  Both of them had glassy eyes, feeling everything he was both saying out loud and silently._

_Steve took a little less time now, moving to her breast and taking her nipple into his mouth.  Her hand raked through his hair.  He wasn’t teasing her…He was trying to take every part of her in, and she wanted to feel every part of his exploration._

_His hands ran down her ribcage next as his kisses followed.  Steve could feel the fluttering inside her as his lips moved to her stomach, over her belly button, along the ridge of her pelvic bone, and on top of her hip._

_The air became thicker the closer he drew to her center.  Her legs stilled, as she felt his mouth skim down her inner thigh, until he was within a breath of touching and tasting her._

_Steve paused and looked up at her._

_Over the last five years, Steve wondered how two people who loved each other could cause so much pain.  But right now, all he could think was the opposite.  After all they’d been through…After all they’d put each other through, how was it possible to feel **so**  much love between them?  There wasn’t a logical answer to it.  Logic had never had a place in their hearts when it came to their relationship. _

_Natasha chewed on her lip as he grabbed a couple of spare pillows and put them under her hips, raising her up a little.  Steve found her hand, laced their fingers together, and placed them over her heart, feeling the rhythm underneath._

_She shook her head, signaling that she was ready to feel more too as she spread her legs wider._

_Natasha let out a strangled moan as his tongue parted her lips and ran along her slit, taking her all in, “Everyday, Nat.” Steve groaned, licking between her folds as he inhaled and tasted how slick she was, “Every day, I remembered how you smelled and tasted.”_

_She began to wriggle her hips against him as she squeezed his hand over her heart, “I remember it all too, Steve,” she panted._

_Lapping at her wet heat, he could feel her hips rocking around him, causing his beard to rub along her inner thigh.  The sensation from the friction was maddening._

_He savored every drop of her he could as he became painfully hard.  He squeezed back against her hand as his tongue finally dove into her.  Hearing and feeling and tasting her arousal had him groaning louder as his other hand moved underneath, lifting her ass off the ground, so he could fuck her deeper with his tongue._

_“Yes.  God, Steve,” she cried out as her hand tugged at his hair with each shift of her hips.  She was close, and he could feel it.  He pulled away and locked eyes with her, “I miss feeling you fall apart for me, Nat.”_

_Steve kissed her swollen center, flicking it with his tongue as he moved his hand from underneath her to between her legs.  Her panting was more erratic as she pulled harder on his hair.  She let out a throaty mewl as he slid two fingers inside her at once, causing her to buck against him._

_Sucking at her clit and pumping into her with his hand, he knew she was almost there.  He didn’t back off.  He kept licking and humming into her as his fingers hooked inside.  A few more seconds, and she was there, coming for him as she cried out through a shuddering breath.  Steve felt her orgasm, contracting and expanding around his hand.  He gripped her hand tightly over her heart and looked up at her, wanting to see her as she did actually fall apart for him._

_Natasha was panting in rhythm with her hips as they slowed against his fingers.  She let out a soft whimper, with her lips quivering as she stared back at him, with his red swollen lips, “Steve, come here.”_

_And he did.  He moved up her body until his mouth was on hers.  She could taste herself on him as he whispered, “You have no idea, Nat.  You are so goddamn breathtaking…you have no idea what you do to me…still.”_

_She was still wound, and he was more than ready, “I do, Steve.  I’ve missed seeing you fall apart for me too.”_

_It was her turn._

_She moved quickly, wrapping her legs around him as he moved onto his back._

_Natasha pushed her hips down, rubbing against him.  His eyes shut for a second to collect himself.  She lowered herself to his shoulder, kissing his scar she had felt earlier.  Steve’s hands went to her hips, pleading with his nervous breathing to feel more of her._

_His neck, his chest, his lips._

_It was the path that her hands, and then her mouth followed as her hair grazed his skin with each kiss, “I thought about you too…Every day and every night, Steve.”  She sat back up, pressing her hands into his chest, staring at him as they communicated silently that it was time._

_Holding her hips, Steve lifted her as she reached between them, guiding his cock to her pussy as she straddled him.  They both let out a trembling breath as Natasha sank down, feeling how hard he was as he slowly filled her._

_“Fuck, Nat,” he stuttered out as she moaned.  Nothing would ever compare.  All of the nights that she spent, trying to chase the pleasure she craved from him, in his absence.  All of the times he dreamt of this exact moment.  It could never compare to actually being together._

_Her hips moved, rolling against him slowly at first, as they adjusted to the feel of her heat engulfing him.  Steve’s hand found her breast again and she moved a little more._

_He grunted, bucking his hips into her as she writhed against him faster and let out a breathy moan, “You feel so good, Steve.”  His hands were on her waist again, digging into her, feeling her start to grind down on him with each rock of her hips._

_She scraped her nails on his chest, and he grabbed her ass hard.  They’d both feel it later._

_She lowered herself, as she braced her arms around his head and began to bounce up and down on him, faster and faster.  Only inches away from his face, their bodies became flushed, molding together as one._

_Not knowing where one began and the other ended, they became in sync as no more words came out.  Just the sounds of the rain and fire around them, and the pants and moans, and wet sounds of her heat around him, filled the air._

_Their sounds became more primal and less in control as the pace quickened.  His groaning became hoarse and her whimpers were husked, both struggling to get all the air they needed.  Her eyes bore into his, knowing they were both close and the only thing that could describe the look they had between each other, was complete adoration._

_Raw, unbridled love._

_They both felt it in their hearts and in the movements between them as they began to dissolve.  He began to pulse, as her walls began to tighten.  She tumbled first, feeling the wave of pleasure ripple from her core all the way to her fingers and toes.  She fell apart at the seams as a rough whine came out of her against his throat._

_Feeling her quiver around his cock, almost made him dizzy as he grunted loudly.  He followed right after, emptying himself inside of her as he held her tight against him._

_She kissed his neck, feeling the sweat between them.  He ran his fingers along her scars, holding her still as he stayed inside of her.  Neither one of them wanted to move, so they stayed in that position for as long as possible._

_Steve found her lips again, kissing her as he whispered, “I love you, Nat.”_

_She whimpered from how sensitive she was, as he pulled her off of him.  Finding her place at his side, she nestled into the crook of his neck.  Draping her leg over his hip, he covered them with a blanket again as she answered, “I love you too, Steve.”_

* * *

_They were on borrowed time and they knew it.  But being together the previous night and then again this morning had unlocked something inside of them.  A hunger and thirst that had been building for years._

_So even though they knew a much bigger and painful talk was needed, they had silently decided today would be for them.  And it was._

_They desperately tried to remember what it was like in the best of times as Steve and Natasha spent the entire day trying to satisfy that hunger and thirst for each other.  Replenishment was met with water and some canned goods and rice they found in the small kitchen.  But throughout the day, they were insatiable towards one another._

_They reconnected six more times throughout the rainy day and night – on the floor again with him on top, on the small counter in the kitchen before they ate as Steve sprawled Natasha out on her back on the hard surface, her bent over the back of the sofa with him behind her, him on the sofa with her sitting on him, then in the shower when they decided to clean themselves up, using all the hot water, and finally in the bed as they found their way upstairs late at night._

_Both exhausted, with their bodies almost raw from each other, Steve had Natasha wrapped in his arms.  They would feel this for days to come, and they relished the thought because they knew their borrowed time was coming to an end tomorrow.  She pushed it out of her thoughts as she looked up at him, and kissed his chest._

_Steve kept running his hands over her scars, knowing their impending talk would be awful.  They were coming down from an almost 24-hour ravenous high, exploring and discovering each other’s bodies again._

_But every action had a reaction, and the reaction would come…and it pained him.  Today wasn’t nearly enough.  Which is what prompted him to say what he was about to, before anything bad happened between them again._

_“Natasha, I want to tell you something.”_

_Natasha looked up at him, with almost a hint of fear in her eyes.  She knew the bottom would fall out of this bubble of love they secluded themselves in today, but she wasn’t ready.  But when she looked at him, she knew it wasn’t that._

_“I don’t know if you ever tried to move on from me…I did, unsuccessfully.  Some of the dates Buck forced me to go on a couple years after you left were absolute disasters…It was one of many clues that there would never be anyone else…Shit, I feel like this isn’t coming out right, so I’m just going to come out and say it.”_

_Natasha’s smile had drifted into a curious stare as Steve spoke again, “Nat, I was going to propose to you seven years ago before you left.”_

_She pressed her hand into his chest, propping herself up as her eyes glassed over at his revelation, “Steve…I…I didn’t know.”_

_“Well, I mean I think you had to have some idea.  We were together for five years, and lived together for the last couple.  It’s not like we didn’t talk about it before…everything happened.”  Steve smiled at her eyes, trying to ease the heaviness, “I’m not telling you this to make anything more painful…I just never had told you before, and I really wanted you to know after today.”_

_She looked away for a second before sayin, “I meant I didn’t know for sure, but I knew we were headed there…I wanted it too.  It was my dream – you and me with Clint living nearby, forming his own life, and our friends and family around us.”_

_His hands paused over the two scars that had caused him so much heartache earlier this morning, “You needed time after we graduated.  I was so happy you lived with Wanda and Maria for the first couple of years out of Quantico.  You’d never had that in life, and I loved seeing you blossom, with their friendship supporting you.  And then we lived together, and it was perfect, but I knew you were hesitant to think of anything permanent without Clint being fully on board.  But then he was, and I knew it for a long time.”_

_He paused for a second before he continued, “And then it was set in stone.  I was going to ask you after that fucked up day in the warehouse, where you were trapped with that thug who had the rifle on you.  Tony, Bucky and I got to you, and I didn’t want to wait one more second.”_

_He paused again, “But then everything with Loki happened, and then Clint became a little distant.  And then you did too…a couple weeks before you left, and it never happened…I just wanted you to know that I wanted it too.”_

_Natasha was silent as she thought about his words before he added, “Would you have said yes?”_

_This was a dangerous road they were going down but they were both in too deep and couldn’t pull away._

_Natasha kissed the skin over his heart and then found his lips before she looked at him again.  A tear fell from her.  She knew she would hate herself tomorrow and he probably would too, but selfishly she pushed the guilt she was feeling down, and answered, “It would’ve never been a question, Steve.  I have been yours from the moment we met…and I always will be.  I told you this on our first weekend away…at the lake.  I told you that it felt like forever when I was with you.  It’s as true right now as it ever was then.”_

_They knew the pendulum would swing the other way tomorrow, but today was theirs.  Today felt like the life they should have had, and it broke and healed them at the same time._

_“Yeah, Nat.  That’s what I thought…I remember every part of that weekend we had…This feels like forever to me too.”_

_Their lips found each other again as they made love for a seventh time in bed that night, and fell asleep dreaming together of a life they used to have.  Of a life where he asked the question, and she said yes._

_They knew every action had a reaction.  They knew they were on borrowed time.  And they knew the pendulum of emotions would swing.  Steve never could’ve predicted just how far it would swing._

* * *

 

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay – don’t hate me. I know…I KNOW that the present day timeline (With Steve and Clint at least) was put on hold here. There is a rhyme and reason to it, and I’m not neglecting or avoiding it. I promise…I PROMISE!!
> 
> I had to get through this chapter first, and their present day timeline just didn’t fit here. And honestly, I needed just a little more fluff before I dive into the next phase. 
> 
> BUT…I promise, promise, promise, the engines are revved for this ride, and we’re going to start moving next chapter…And Steve and Clint’s present timeline will be ‘present’ (ha…I can’t help my stupid puns sometimes…sorry!)
> 
> I didn’t necessarily think I would be putting a ‘song’ in this fic. But, my mind went there, and I couldn’t help it…and I’ve trusted where my mind has gone thus far. Where Steve and Natasha were 12 years ago, on their weekend at the lake…as they danced, the song felt perfect. If you know the song “Forever” by Ben Harper, you’ll understand why (I hope). The lyrics just fit, as you read. And the melody and beat to it, are so subtle and beautifully understated, it just was perfect for their relationship. 
> 
> If you haven’t listened to it, do yourself a favor on youtube or google and listen to the 3 minute song. I hope you’ll find it’s worth it, because I simply adore it. I love all types of music, but this one just popped out to me a couple of chapters ago actually when I was writing, and I wrote it down on my outline, and it fit perfectly in the scene. And, if you don’t care for that part, it’s easy enough to scroll through :)
> 
> Thank you so much for the support and encouragemnet along the way. I love hearing from readers, so let me know your thoughts in the comments or come follow me on Tumblr @eightieskat if you'd like to chat about anything with the story, Marvel, or anything else. Have a great day!!
> 
> Cheers!~~Kat


	16. Shattered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckle-Up. We’re about to go on a roller coaster over the next few chapters
> 
> FYI – no ‘12 Years Ago’ timeline this Chapter – it’ll be back in Ch. 17

Memories & Reality

I do not own any of this or any part of Marvel or the MCU

Chapter 16 –Shattered

* * *

**Present Day -** FBI HQ

“You find anything yet, Buck?”  Sam asked.

Tony, Bucky, and Sam were situated in the ‘bullpen,’ just outside the conference room.  The bullpen was the open area of cubicles where the FBI agents’ desks were located.  They sat at Bucky, Sam, and Steve’s trio of desks because it had the most space, since they were the lead team in the New York Office. 

Their searching was approaching the hour mark, and their aggravation was setting in. 

The trio had gone through all of their old files and Steve’s information he had on his work computer, but found nothing new.  They moved onto Tony’s files and started looking through all of the CCTV footage they could find.  They narrowed their focus, to the dates and locations around the photos of Natasha, that Tony shared earlier.  He only had a handful of pictures of her from the last seven years, so it helped reduce the massive footage archive they were sifting through. 

Bucky threw a stack of files in a box and rubbed his eyes, “No Sam, it’s the same as the other three boxes I’ve already gone through.  Nothing…How’s it going with your search through CCTV?”

“Nothing yet, but keep your head up.  We’ll find something.  I’ll be back in a minute…gonna go stretch my legs and refill my caffeine,” Sam answered as he pointed to his coffee mug.  Bucky nodded, sighing both from exhaustion and anxiety. 

Tony looked at Bucky and took a breath.  The extremely long day was taking a toll on everyone, but it was evident how stressed and afraid Bucky was from his face.  Stark stopped scanning through footage on Steve’s computer for a second, “You know Barnes, I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone this.  And I’d probably deny it if you asked me to repeat myself, but I was a little jealous of you and your brother when we first started at Quantico.”

Bucky lifted his head up to look at Stark.  Tony’s words caught him off guard but distracted him for a second, “What?  Why are you telling me that, Stark?”

Tony let out a quiet laugh, “Well, I figured we have a lot of catching up to do.  And you know…we almost got into a fist fight a couple of times today before we found out everything from Loki…I don’t know.  I guess it just seems like a good time to tell you, and why not start from the beginning?”

Bucky looked at him questioningly as Tony continued, “Alright Barnes, I’ll spell it out for you, since it’s probably been a longer day for you than any of us here…I was a real competitive asshole at the beginning of our training at Quantico.”

“You don’t say,” Bucky smirked.

Tony grinned.  It was slight.  But it was something.  It was growth.

“Yeah, yeah, I probably had that coming, but I’m betting Wanda teases you about being a flirtatious ass back then too, before you started dating…what can I say?  We were all young, and a lot has changed.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said with another sigh, “Yeah.  You can say that again.”

Tony clapped his hands together to draw them out of their trip down memory lane, “Anyway, my point wasn’t to make us feel even worse.  My  _point_ was, that I started out jealous of the two of you.  You were so close, and I didn’t have any siblings.   _But_  we grew, we worked, and fought next to each other.  All of us.  And that jealousy left me by the time we graduated.  And then we had five really good years, where I felt like we were all family.”

Bucky nodded at Tony as he continued, “And then…well, we don’t need to go over the rest.  Bad things happened, Natasha and Loki left, and some of us…me included in that…couldn’t handle the fall-out, so we left too.  But I never stopped thinking of you and Steve as family, Barnes.  I think today has made me realize that.  I guess what I want to say is that we’ll find something…On Romanoff, on your brother, on Poseidon.  We’ll find  _something_.”

They weren’t used to this.  The two men were never the mushy or touchy feely type with each other, but what Tony was saying was genuine.  They had been family, and were starting to realize that they still were. 

A certain amount of baggage had been swept aside over the last couple of hours, ever since finding out Natasha was alive and what Steve had been up to on his own.  There were far more important matters at hand, than some hurt feelings between a fractured FBI team.  What they were gaining was a harsh dose of perspective.

Bucky understood what Tony was trying to do, and he got the message, “Thanks Tony.  I just hate feeling helpless and out of control.”

“Yeah, well…I think that’s the M.O. for all of us here.  But you gotta remember, Steve is stubborn as hell and one of the best, Bucky.  Let’s keep searching.”  It was the first time in a long time that the men called each other by their first names.  Again, it was a small step, but it was growth. 

Sam came back and grinned at the two men, obviously at the end of a bro-mance moment, and they got back to their search. 

Tony was apparently able to predict the future, because fifteen minutes later, the three men stopped what they were doing as something clicked in Bucky’s brain as he said under his breath, “Holy shit.”

“What is it, Buck?” Sam asked.  Bucky clicked on a file on his computer, searched for a few seconds and then printed off an image and said, “Tony, let me see those pictures you showed to the task-force earlier…the ones you collected of Natasha.” 

Tony quickly handed him the file, “Bucky, what is it?” 

Bucky sifted through the file and pulled out the pictures he was looking for, “Sam, search in that box over there and pull out the State Department’s staff photo from a couple years ago.”

Bucky was up and moving to the conference room.  The other men followed as they watched him lay out a couple of pieces of paper and several pictures on the table.  He snapped his fingers at Sam to hand him the staff photo. 

“Fuck.” 

Bucky let out a slow breath before he continued, “Okay, I might sound crazy because I’m making a bit of a leap here, but something just fell into place when I remembered…ugh, let me just show you.  Sam, Tony, try to follow me.”

Bucky shifted a few items before he started talking again, “Look – the photo with Natasha and Clint from five years ago – it was taken on the outskirts of Brooklyn.  We know from the timestamp, that Clint probably picked her up after she’d been watching my wedding reception…Nothing stands out in the image, at least right away…But if you look at this photo here…”

Bucky showed Sam and Tony an image from his and Wanda’s wedding.  It’s what he printed off from his computer a minute ago.  The Bride and Groom were entering the building of the rooftop reception, and the picture was taken from the street.  It had been a throw away photo that wasn’t put in any albums.  But Wanda kept them all, and Bucky had seen them enough times, that he remembered this image.  Now that he was looking at it, a red flag went off inside him. 

A blurry image of a man was in the background of that specific wedding picture. 

“Bucky, you’re going to have to connect the dots for us,” Tony started, but Bucky cut him off, “Just follow me.  Don’t look at me and Wanda…Look at the man in the background.  Remember his shape and size.  You can’t pick out his face, but he’s out of place, right?  It’s probably why I remembered the picture.  Then, look at the photo of Natasha and Clint, from that same night in Brooklyn from five years ago.  Tell me the image of the man in our wedding photo doesn’t look like the  _same_  mystery man in her and Clint’s background.”

It did.  They couldn’t see his face in either image, but the approximate height, size, and build were eerily similar in both of them. 

Bucky was on a roll now, “The photo of Nat from two years ago, was probably before or after she met up with Steve…wherever that was.  So, I pulled CCTV footage around the same time as your picture, Tony.  You can’t see any mystery man in the picture of Natasha, or any of the CCTV images, but you can see this.”

He took a red marker and made a circle on a traffic camera image.  It was around the same time and location that the image of Natasha was captured.  Sam and Tony craned their necks to see, that Bucky had circled the distinct image of a government issued, black Sedan, with the State Department’s symbol on it.

Tony could already see where Barnes was jumping to a conclusion, but it was loose at best.  It could easily be a coincidence that a government vehicle was in the same area.  The photo didn’t connect the mysterious man from five years ago, to the car from two years ago.  They were stressed and under the pressure of time, so Tony was careful with his words, “Bucky, I want to find something too…but I don’t know about this.”

Bucky shook his head, “Just listen,” and he listed the loose connections one-by-one:

  * Blurry image of a mysterious man, in the background of the pic of Nat and Clint, five years ago.
  * Mysterious man with  _similar_ build and size in background of my wedding photo, five years ago.
  * CCTV footage from two years ago, at almost the same time the picture of Natasha was taken, shows a State Department Sedan in traffic



Bucky smirked, “I wouldn’t jump to a conclusion if I were just looking at these three pictures.” 

“Okay Buck, what else is there besides these?”  Sam asked.

Bucky blew out a breath and shook the picture in his hand, “It’s what you just dug out of the box, Sam.  I want the two of you to look at this.  Now try and tell me the asshole in the background of the first two pictures, doesn’t look like the same son of a bitch in this State Department staff picture.” 

Bucky circled the man’s face and body in the staff photo, and Sam and Tony both muttered, “Shit,” at the same time.   

The face wasn’t a match and would never hold up in the court of law.  It couldn’t, with how blurry the other two images were.  But the man in the staff picture had the same size, build, and height as the man in the other photos. 

Now, they had a piece of circumstantial evidence…a trail of breadcrumbs to start following.  That trail connected the blurry images to the State Department vehicle, and now to the State Department staff picture. 

It sent a chill down their spines as the three men looked at each other and said at the same time, “Fury.”

They ran to the lab to find Fury to tell him what they’d found.  Little did they know Wanda, Bruce, and Loki were on the same scent and following the same track. 

* * *

**_2 Years Ago –_ ** _Cabin_

_Sunlight is bright and warm.  It can be the source of life, of leisure, and of comfort._

_But sunlight also brings closure to the darkness that came before it.  As night turns to day, light can bring clarity, and with it, truth – no matter how harsh the truth may be._

_Steve and Natasha laid awake, as the sun crept into the cabin.  The storm had passed, but the real world was waiting.  So, no matter how much they tried to relax for a little while longer in each other’s arms, the approaching day knocked at the door._

_Their bodies ached from the previous 24 hours of insatiable passion, but it didn’t matter.  Even though Natasha thought of all of the touches and sounds from yesterday, her head was pounding with the fact that today was it, and they wouldn’t have another night together._

_‘How could you be so selfish with Steve, yesterday?’  That line went over and over in her head._

_Steve continued to run his fingers along her back, but his stomach was in knots, and he was dreading whatever their morning brought.  Ultimately it came down to the fact that he had to go back to his life and job, without her.  And he didn’t think he had the strength to pull himself away.  Scratch that.  He **knew** he wouldn’t have the strength to do it. _

_They laid there silently for over an hour, trying to soak in the feel of each other, but the spell of the weekend was over.  Neither wanted to be the first to move, but Natasha did it anyway._

_She rolled onto her side, away from Steve as she stared at the staircase.  She bit her lip and let out a breath, “What time do you need to leave by, Steve?”_

_There it was._

_The start of the day…the first domino was knocked over._

_Steve shut his eyes, feeling it too, “I don’t know, Nat.  It’s only 7:00 right now…why don’t we go shower.  And then we can clean up the cabin.”  Natasha was holding back tears but shook her head in response.  She was going to have to grow a hell of a lot thicker of skin, if she was going to get through this morning in one piece._

_Steve could tell she was upset.  He was too.  There was so much about this whole scenario that he didn’t understand.  And as soon as he started to focus on the unfairness of their relationship and Natasha’s life and actions, anger started to creep into his mind.  He pushed it away though, just for a little longer, as he looked at her back of unsolved mysteries and moved towards her, “Come on, Nat.  Let’s go shower.”_

_She shouldn’t.  They shouldn’t.  But they did._

_They didn’t make love though.  They simply stood silently under the stream of water, holding each other.  They let their quiet tears fall, mixed in with the warmth as they cleaned themselves.  And then they held each other a little longer until the water turned cold._

_Another domino fell as the clock ticked._

_30 minutes passed, and the cabin was cleaned, and the bed was made.  And they were dressed, with the exception of their shirts.  Steve had found some coffee hidden in a cupboard, and made some.  It tasted bitter.  How fitting.  But he drank it anyway with Natasha._

_Nothing was left to do, except for the two of them to finish clearing the air and actually have a full conversation.  It was a blaring exception, and it was the main reason they met up this weekend._

_Steve rinsed and dried their coffee mugs and put them back in the cupboard.  There was just a glass of water that Natasha had on the table, left to clean.  He looked over to see her, standing by that table…where their passionate tryst began 36 hours ago._

_Natasha was now in her sports bra and jeans and boots, and was bending over to pick up her shirt.  With her back in full view in the broad daylight, all the questions started pounding through Steve’s head again._

_They had caught up with that proverbial can, that they kept kicking down the road.  He couldn’t put it off any longer._

_Steve walked over to Natasha and stopped her hand from putting her shirt on.  He stood behind her and kissed the scars from the bullets again._

_Pressing both of his hands on her shoulders, Steve whispered with a nervous breath, “Natasha…tell me what the tattoos mean.”  The final corner had been turned.  There was no going back, now that he’d started the inevitable conversation._

_Steve dreaded her answers, but he needed to hear them from her while they still had time._

_Time…_

_Time was a wicked bitch of a spell.  Always longing for more of it, but when you had it with the one that mattered most, it went too fast.  And then it’s gone.  Like sand sifting through your fingers, it’s there one minute, but impossible to hold onto.  And then it’s gone._

_Natasha tensed under his touch as nerves started to fire throughout her body.  Her eyes welled up as she thought back to the song ‘Forever,’ they had danced to so long ago.  How she wished she could have that handless clock with numbers, that infinite of time with Steve.  Reality wasn’t so kind though._

_Their memories were not their reality anymore._

_Steve knew she was upset.  Hell, he was more than troubled at how wrong this all was, but they needed to talk.  He knew her so well still.  She was like a frightened animal right now, and if he pushed hard, they’d end up screaming at each other before any real answers were given._

_Breaking the nervous silence, Steve repeated what he had told her the day before, “I’m sorry for what I said upstairs yesterday morning, Natasha.  I just get so mad sometimes thinking about what’s been done and what’s been lost between us.”_

_Natasha turned around as she circled her arms around her waist, feeling very vulnerable at the moment, “Steve, I can understand that anger.  I feel awful that I introduced you to any part of my world at the beginning…But everything I told you at Quantico, and every day we were together afterwards was true.  I will always love you.  And I really meant it last night when I said you were my forever.  I meant it back then and last night…”_

_“Nat, what is it?” Steve said as he stepped closer to her._

_She looked up at him with a pained expression, “It’s just…I was just so naïve back then…Clint was right, that first night that you met him.”_

_Steve’s face scrunched together, remembering the encounter at the bar in the town of Lakeside.  So many beautiful memories were created that weekend.  But Clint’s meeting with them, and his warning about Natasha being forced back to **their** reality, had seared itself into Steve’s memory ever since,_

_“Natasha, I know what Clint said, but even he began to believe you, and he stood a chance of living a happy life…Hell, he became friends with me even, in the years after we graduated.”_

_And this is where the break happened._

_Every time…every goddamn time Steve tried to go down a logical path of figuring out what the hell happened, it was like his brain splintered.  It cracked because there was no logical explanation._

_Natasha and Steve were in love.  They were more than in love.  They were the fucking love of each other’s lives, and were incredibly happy for five years.  And then they weren’t.  One day he was trying to figure out how to propose to her, and the next thing he knew Loki was gone, and then she betrayed the team and left.  Sure Clint and her became distant a few weeks before she left, but how could he have ever predicted the 180 degree turn that occurred?_

_That schism between logic and reality angered him more than anything because he just couldn’t make sense of it.  Which is why he continued and said, “I just don’t understand, Nat.  I mean, I’ve never been given a reason to try and understand either…But as many times as I’ve tried, I can’t even begin to wrap my head around why Clint and you started to become distant the weeks before you left.”_

_He paused and stared at her for a second before adding, “Natasha…I don’t understand why you chose your past over me and the life we built.”_

_Natasha’s face tightened as she swallowed, “Steve…you think I chose this?  You think I chose any of this over you?”_

_Steve answered in a whisper, “Didn’t you?”_

_She was trying to find words, but he continued, speaking a little firmer before she could say anything, “When I’ve been told nothing, what else am I supposed to think?  Natasha, for three years I was floundering…flopping around like I was lost, because I was.  God, I was so angry at you.  And those first three years only made it grow inside me.  I tried finding you…in more legitimate ways than how I found you now.  The team helped.  I tried focusing on work.  Bucky forced me to try and move on, but nothing took…nothing helped.”_

_Natasha tightened her hold on herself as he went on, “Everything was different.  I became short-tempered when I couldn’t contain my anger.  The team split apart even more.  Everyone felt guilty about Loki…about you…about us.  And I focused on my anger for everything.  It took me pretty much all three years, but I finally tracked you and Clint down at that political gala in Russia.  I had a strong hunch you’d be there, and I was right.  I thought if I could find you and arrest you, that I could finally move on.  You’re not the only one who was naïve.”_

_Natasha found her words, “I definitely felt your anger in Russia, Steve.  I was so shocked you found me, but then more shocked that you tried to arrest me.”_

_“Yeah…well, that didn’t happen, did it?  And now here we are again, after I spent the last two years searching for you, in less legal ways.  I realized my endless search for you wasn’t about anger anymore.  I just needed to be with you.  God Nat, sometimes I feel like I’ve always been chasing you.”_

_Steve looked at Natasha’s face as she responded, “Well, if you wouldn’t have chased me, we wouldn’t be here…I needed to see you just as much as you needed to see me.  I’ve been trying to hold onto our past and the good memories as hard as you have.”_

_That crack between logic and reality was very real._

_Steve rubbed his head, feeling a headache coming on as he sat back against the table and reached for the glass of water nearby, “Natasha, sometimes I feel like our life together was only yesterday.  That’s how vividly I remember it and how often I think of you.  But then other times, it seems like it was a dream.  And when I saw those tattoos and scars on your back, all the anger and pain came rushing back.  I just don’t understand any of it.  So you’re going to have to give me something besides some general phrases about love and needing to see me.  I need answers…I think I deserve that.”_

_Natasha dropped her hands and sat next to him on the table, “If it was a dream, then everything Clint and I have been doing for the last two years has been for nothing, Steve…I really thought I was fighting for my freedom at Quantico.  And I was stupid enough to think that my handlers and Poseidon would actually let me and Clint go._

_“Poseidon?”_

_Natasha stared at him, “Steve, you’re not going to like this.”_

_Steve cut her off, feeling his voice rise at her poor choice of words, “I haven’t liked **any**  of this Natasha.”_

_Natasha put her hands up and sighed, “I’m sorry, just let me get this out…The group of people that put Clint and me in our initial training camp, and then sent us to America…they have this plan to protect old Soviet and now Russian interests, and have recently named the group Poseidon.”_

_It was a name that Steve would ultimately put on the back burner after this weekend, because of everything that would unfold in the next year.  But it was the first time he heard the name that would be **more** than relevant in two years from now. _

_Natasha took a drink from that same glass and continued, “Yeah, well…The Russians are very old world and fanatics.  You’ve always known that.  They named the group after the Greek God with the mission to Infiltrate, Secure, and Destroy._

_The people in charge are just like Ivan and Oksana…they all are, except it’s worse.  It’s worse because they’re crazy, powerful, and the scariest part, is they’re incredibly patient.  None of this is really that new to you.  Same goal as it always has been.  They just have a name now, which means they think they’re further along with their mission.”_

_Natasha’s rubbed her thighs nervously, “Anyway, you know my plan went to hell for Clint’s and my freedom…and I know you would do anything to save Bucky and Wanda…that you’d do absolutely anything for your family.”_

_“What do they have to do with this, Natasha?” Steve answered defensively._

_Natasha blew out a breath of frustration, “This isn’t coming out right.  Steve, I love Wanda and Bucky.  I was just making a point that I would do the same for Clint as you would for them or your mother.  Clint was all I had for most of my life, and then I found you, and you were my second chance.  Hell, you were actually my first chance at a normal life…But Clint was right, that the group of people behind Poseidon were never going to allow us to be free.  We were their property in their minds…their slaves.  I told you they were incredibly patient.  So they waited until the time was right for them.”_

_Steve stared at her hands gripping her legs as she continued, “Steve do you remember when Sam and Bucky were in that car accident, a little over two weeks before I left five years ago?”_

_Steve nodded in agreement, recalling as his brother and friend had been hospitalized for minor injuries, when their SUV was side swiped on a mission.  They rolled into a ditch, but compared to a lot of other close calls, their accident was rather minor in the grand scheme of things.  But it was still scary at the time.  Bucky still joked to this day with Sam, about him not being able to drive properly, because Wilson was behind the wheel at the time._

_Steve answered, “Yeah, I remember you and I going to the hospital and spending the night there with Wanda.  We all crammed into their joint rooms after the rest of the team left.  We had to beg Mom to go home and rest.  Wanda took her home, and they got stuck in that stupid hospital elevator.  I thought Mom was going to have a nervous breakdown.”_

_Natasha sighed and took a deep breath, “Steve, I went to our apartment that next morning to grab a few things since we stayed all night in the hospital with them.  Clint was outside of our apartment when I got there.  He was waiting for me and was really upset.”_

_Steve’s eyes narrowed remembering the day after they stayed at the hospital.  Natasha continued, “Clint was really shaken because he had gotten to be somewhat close with you and the team, in those five years after graduation.  At least, close for him.  And like you said, Clint actually started to believe he could be happy and live a normal life…But, he knew after that night, that he never would.”_

_Now she was finally getting somewhere, but Steve’s stomach only tightened, “How did he know that, Natasha?”_

_Natasha looked at the ground, “Clint wasn’t just upset.  He was beaten by our handlers’ people that same night of the accident.  He looked awful when I saw him the next morning.  He was sent to warn me that Sam and Bucky’s accident was a warning shot.  And that Wanda and Sarah being trapped in the elevator was to show they could get to anyone at any time…in any place.”_

_Natasha’s voice became uneven as emotions started to fold into her words, “Steve…they told Clint that if I didn’t come back to ‘Poseidon’ with Clint, then not only would the team and Sarah be taken away from me one by one, but Clint and you would too.”_

_Tears were escaping her eyes as she continued, “I know what I did to you and the team was awful, but now you know why I had to do it.  Clint and I couldn’t escape ‘Poseidon,’ so we did what we were told and completed our missions.  I committed crimes to appease them, and to protect you.  I passed their goddamn tests, and it was like I was a teenager all over again.”_

_Steve didn’t know what to think.  All he could feel right now was his headache getting worse.  He stood up from the table and walked to the back of the couch and put his hands on it, still shirtless.  Natasha could see his muscles on his back tense as he blew out a large breath of frustration._

_Natasha knew she had to keep going as hard as this was going to be, “Steve, after three years of proving our ‘loyalty’, Clint and I were sent on a mission to obtain intel from different state officials at the political event in Russia.  Much to my surprise, you found me there too.”_

_Steve turned around and sat against the back of the couch.  They were directly across from each other now and the tension was growing as she continued, “After Clint and I saw you again, we were so angry…from what I lost and the future that he started hoping for too.  It was all stripped away.”_

_Oh, this was all too familiar to Steve._

_Not the words, but this was an old argument brewing right now, itching to be re-visited.  She was giving him every reason (logical and not) and excuse as to why she left.  She lived in the grey areas of life.  She always had, and it was where she deferred to when challenged.  Steve had become more flexible over the years.  And obviously, he started bending rules to find her, and lied to his family and friends on his current whereabouts, among the other lies he’s told.  But he justified it all in his mind, because of her._

_But **this**.  At its core, the old argument with Natasha came down to trust with Steve.  And it angered him to no end, which is what caused him to say, “Natasha, you should have come to me.”_

_A second passed as she shut her eyes, and Steve repeated himself, louder this time, “How could you not trust me enough to come to me?”_

_Natasha’s eyes sprang open as she answered defensively, “Trust you?  Steve, I trust you with everything.  I couldn’t live with myself if you would have gotten hurt.  Look at what happened to Loki for only hacking the NSA.  What do you think would have happened if I came to you, and we went to the FBI for some fleeting hope of protection?  I would have been thrown in a cell or handed over to the CIA within a day.”_

_Steve jumped on her words, “Goddamn it…I’m not talking about the FBI, Natasha.  I’m talking about you and me. **You**  should have come to  **me**.”_

_Natasha scoffed, “Who’s being naïve now, Steve?”_

_They sat there staring at each other, realizing how quickly they fell into this argument.  And so much still had to be talked about._

_Natasha calmed down a little and let out a breath, “Steve, everything changed after you found me in Russia.  Me seeing you…it made everything so raw.  Clint and I made a decision after that.  We decided we weren’t going to play by their rules anymore.”_

_Natasha’s words made Steve pause.  Those knots tightened in his stomach as he swallowed.  He didn’t want to fight, so he pushed away the lure of the old argument.  And he went over and sat next to her again, against the table._

_“What are you talking about Natasha?” Steve asked confused, but in a calmer voice._

_She reached over to place her hand on his thigh, “I’m saying Clint and I have been working on a plan over the last two years…ever since Russia.  We’ve been going along with what our handlers have required from us.  But we’ve also been obtaining intel causing damage where we could.  At first, we were on our own, but eventually we found other people…some mercenaries that have a hankering to cause some damage.  They want to bring some Russians down and really like blowing shit up.  But they’ve been a big help.”_

_She continued before he had a chance to argue with anything she just said, “Steve, the tattoos on my back are markings from my handlers.  With each test I passed over the last five years, a new one was added.  Trainings, tests, missions completed…everything had a purpose to them.  Even my initial punishment when I returned to them, the 28 burn marks, had a goal.  The goal was to brand me and Clint as theirs.”_

_Natasha proceeded to go through each of her tattoos as she lifted her sports bra and turned her back to Steve so he could see:_

  * _The ocean with the trident and fire tattoo on my lower back – It’s the symbol each of the ‘Poseidon Soldiers’ have. It’s Clint’s and my most recent one, since they just named themselves…we got it a few months ago._
  * _The hammer and sickle tattoo with the Russian text on my lower left – The text is the old Soviet Anthem and you probably recognize the hammer and sickle. It’s to always remind us where we came from.  Clint and I received it four years ago, after we had to take down some enemies of our handlers, who abandoned the old Soviet Order._
  * _The double headed eagle on my upper right – The heads are pointed in opposite directions, showing the desire to rule all. Old Russian monarchies used it as a symbol of power and wealth.  I got it after Russia, two years ago._
  * _The burn scars you know about, I received those right away after I left. But the other tattoos. You can see there’s 14 dark grey circles that form a cross, from across my shoulder blades and down the middle of my spine.  I got a new one after I passed each mission and test after I came back to them.  There’s no pattern or distinct image in them.  It’s just a dark circle.  The sadistic twist from my handlers…they thought I needed the extra reminder on top of the burn scars to show me I would never be rid of them, so they put a Russian word in each one of the circles, just for me.  The last five words were added recently, when Poseidon named themselves._



_Steve ran his fingers over each tattoo and then over the dark grey circles that formed a cross.  In each circle, Natasha was right…There was a Russian word in black ink that was only visible if you got close.  Natasha read each of the Russian words to Steve as he followed along looking at each one.  She started on her left shoulder where the first one began, right by her Navy tattoo._

  * _Изменник – Traitor (Farthest to the left)_
  * _Солдат - Soldier_
  * _Шпион - Spy_
  * _Измена – Treason (Just to the left of her heart)_
  * _Шлюха- Whore (Just to the right of her heart)_
  * _Епитимья – Penance_
  * _Оплата – Payment – (Farthest to the right)_
  * _Мать Россия – Mother Russia (At the top of her spine just below her neck)_
  * _Отец Советский – Father Soviet_
  * _Посейдон – Poseidon (Right in the middle at the cross section)_
  * _Инфильтрат - Infiltrate_
  * _Безопасный – Secure_
  * _Уничтожить - Destroy_
  * _Миссия – Mission (The last tattoo on the vertical line, ending on the middle of her back_ _)_



_Natasha lowered her bra again and turned around to Steve, who looked hurt, angry, and afraid all at once.  “Steve, that’s all I can say about what Clint and I are planning…anything else will put you in too much danger, and you’ve already risked so much for me.”_

_Now he just looked hurt as he said, “Aren’t you already putting me in danger by seeing me here?”_

_Natasha had to look away for a second.  The guilt she felt was getting to her, “I’ve always been more selfish than you Steve…I had to see you…I had to be with you again.  I know you felt that way too, otherwise you wouldn’t have shown up.  I have just been without you for so long.”_

_Steve’s throat became tight, “Natasha, I want more answers than what you’re telling me.  I want to help you.  If it’s something I can do to help bring you back, then you know I am yours…I hate that I don’t have more will power than that, but I don’t when it comes to you.  I will do anything to help you.  You have to know that.”_

_Steve found her hands and held them tight in his, trying to look at her._

_Natasha did look at him again, but had tears in her eyes now, “You never cease to amaze me, Steve.  You deserve so much more than what I could ever give you.  I’ve betrayed you and lied to you over and over again, and here you are still trying to protect me.”_

_Steve cut her off, “Natasha, yesterday…everything we said…the years we spent together in New York…It was all real, and I still believe we can have that.  You just have to let me help you.  Don’t shut me out.”_

_Natasha had more tears coming down her cheeks as she looked at their hands together.  She was screaming at herself, internally.  Why…why did he have to be so fucking good?  This was making it so much harder._

_Steve tried to continue, but she cut him off.  Natasha had to do this now if she was going to have the strength to get through this, “Steve, it was all real for me too.  But you don’t get it.  My reality with you, and the reality of my life cannot exist together.  I will remember every single second of yesterday for the rest of my life.  It was so beautiful and made me think of my dream I used to have for us…Sometimes I dream there is this alternate reality where my past didn’t exist, and we continued on from five years ago without me leaving.”_

_“Natasha, please…Please listen to me, Nat.  You have to let me help you,” Steve pleaded._

_She took a breath as a couple more tears fell, “I imagine in that alternate reality, we got married, we had our FBI family…I got to be there for Bucky and Wanda when they had their son.  I got to meet Peter and see him grow into the young and beautiful boy I’m sure he is, and that we would have had children of our own.  And Clint would have found someone to share a life with.  That’s what yesterday was for me, Steve.  A reminder of what could have been.  And I’m sorry for being so selfish, but I needed to feel that again…But, that’s not the only reason I had to see you.”_

_Steve felt her grip on him become much tighter as she scooted closer to him, and he started to get nervous, “Natasha, what are you trying to say?”_

_She said through a shaky voice, “Steve, I had to see you one last time…to say goodbye._   _”_

* * *

**Present Day –** Driving

Steve had left Clint a few minutes ago as he drove toward the cabin in the pitch black of night.  He turned on the ear communication piece Clint just gave him to be able to listen for any warnings. 

Steve started thinking of that weekend at the Cabin with Natasha from two years ago, when he left the City tonight.  He ran through their first night, their fight the next morning, him finding her in the rain, their incredible day of insatiable love, and their last night in bed. 

How could he not think of all of those memories?  He was driving to the exact same location he last saw her at.  Only now, he was driving there to try and save her.  He couldn’t even begin to comprehend how he was actually dealing with this.  But he knew he was going to do what she wouldn’t let him do, two years ago – help her and save her. 

But as he remembered of all the good memories from that weekend, he also remembered how it ended. 

* * *

**_2 years ago –_ ** _Cabin_

_Goodbye._

_A word meant for resolution.  A lyric that was half of the title to a famous Beatles’ song.  A term to convey well wishes when people part ways, or end conversations._

_It was a word that Natasha or Steve **never**  said to each other. _

_Their little tradition started off silly.  Two people falling in love at Quantico, didn’t want to leave each other’s bedrooms, so they jokingly said they wouldn’t ever say goodbye to each other.  It stuck._

_Then it became one of their many things.  Just like any quirk that develops in a relationship, it individualized them as a couple._

_It was cute how they would wave or nod, and they would kiss and hug, but they would never say that word.  Then it transcended even them.  Wanda and Bucky picked up on it, and didn’t really use the term either.  And it almost became a superstition with the team on missions, where none of the agents going out into the field ever said it._

_“See you after dinner.”  “Call me as soon as you land in the field.”  “I can’t wait to kiss you when I’m home.”_

_Those phrases and countless other ones were alternative versions, but they never actually said goodbye.  It was almost like the word didn’t exist in Steve and Natasha’s heads, or like they weren’t even capable of physically saying it to each other._

_So, knowing all of the history behind that one word, caused Steve to feel like the floor had just moved.  He went rigid as soon as Natasha said it because he knew it wasn’t a mistake.  And he knew, she knew it too._

_With everything she had done – lied to him, left him, and betrayed him – Natasha still never said that word to him.  She hadn’t actually told him it, in context yet, but she said that was why she came here.  Steve pulled his hand away from her like he just touched an open flame._

_The rug had been pulled out.  The other shoe dropped.  The boom had been lowered.  It was a kick to the fucking nuts.  Every goddamn catchphrase he could think of applied, because Steve knew.  He knew from her expression and body language that she was serious._

_And because Steve knew, his stomach had twisted so tightly inside him, that he felt bile in his stomach start to form, as heat pulsated through every part of his body.  He stood up from the table, grabbed his shirt and threw it on as he walked away towards the fireplace._

_Natasha flinched when he recoiled and walked away from her._

_Yesterday was filled with sexual tension.  This morning the air loomed with sadness.  Then there had been a hint of anger as they broached an argument only 30 minutes ago.  But they backed off of it…for a bit.  But now the air, all of a sudden felt toxic, and Steve was struggling to catch his breath as he stared at nothing in particular._

_Natasha felt cold all of a sudden and reached over to grab her shirt to quickly put it on.  She stood up from the table but couldn’t bring herself to move closer to him._

_“Steve, please.”_

_Even through his shirt, she could see how tense his shoulders became as soon as he heard her voice again.  He was beyond angry.  Steve dropped his head and pinched the bridge of his nose.  He was seeing a little red inside his eyelids, and his head was absolutely pounding from his headache._

_With a flat tone and a low voice, Steve said, “You have got to be fucking kidding me with this.”_

_Fear swept over her face.  She knew it would be bad.  But nothing could actually prepare her for this.  It was so much worse, feeling what she did and hearing how upset he was with her right now.  And they hadn’t even gotten through it.  He turned around and looked at her, and he wasn’t just upset or angry.  He was in pain._

_Steve was reeling.  He didn’t know if he could even form coherent sentences._

_But the words began to pour out him anyway._

_“We had everything, Natasha.  Even through the lies and the walls and the trust issues…we overcame everything together…And it wasn’t easy, but it was perfect because it was us.  Do you even remember that?”_

_Natasha was frozen in place.  She didn’t know what to say to any of this.  It was all true…but he was talking louder now and walking over towards her again as he cut off her thoughts._

_“And then you were gone like a drop of water in the ocean.  Do you know what I thought after you left?  First I was mad, then I blamed myself…like somehow I pushed you away and caused you to betray us.  Then I was scared out of my fucking mind that maybe none of it was real, or that you’d been kidnapped by someone from Russia.”_

_He took a breath, only for a second and continued, “But no.  I come to find out that Sam and Bucky and Wanda…and my mother were threatened, and I didn’t even know it.  Just like I didn’t know you almost died in the last two years.  I didn’t know any of it, because you couldn’t even trust me, with what you and Clint were up against.  Me, Natasha.  I’m not talking about the FBI or anyone else on the team.  I’m talking about me...”_

_She took a step forward, but it didn’t faze him, “The way I see it…You chose to run away from me.  You chose to not even give me a chance to try and figure something out with you.”_

_“Steve, that’s not true,” She started to say through her tears as Steve cut her off, “Just stop it, Natasha.”_

_His tone hardened, “I have kept so many secrets and crossed so many lines for you over the years.  I tried to protect you.  I tried to find you over and over again.  My family… **Our** family and friends suffered from you leaving too, and they suffered from the hell l put them through after you left.  Do you think about that at all?”_

_He paused as his eyes started to glass over, “Jesus Christ, Natasha, I’m lying to them right now about where I am.  They think I’m on a fucking camping and fishing weekend by myself.  This is just like Russia all over again.  Except now, you’re telling me what?  That you and Clint started some sort of vigilante vendetta over the last two years, and that you won’t accept my help…You won’t trust me, again.  God, I feel like a goddamn fool.”_

_The air had a heavy bitterness to it._

_Natasha had been afraid to come here.  But she needed to.  She needed everything they had yesterday, but she needed to do what she was about to._

_It was just so much worse than she imagined.  Because of course he was still trying to save her.  He was still so good.  And thinking of just how good Steve was, made her angry.  She became angry at her life.  At her handlers.  At everything that had led them here, and what they’d lost.  But right now, she was angry at him because he still wanted to help her._

_And everything was so much harder because of it._

_Natasha narrowed her eyes and took a step towards him, “Steve, what do you want me to say?  That I’m screwed up?  Well, guess what…I am.  I’m royally fucked up!  I was forced into my world.  And I tell you, Clint and I are doing something about it, and all you want to do is be some superhero and save me.”_

_Steve answered back with just as much fight in his voice, “You’re damn right I want to save you, Nat. Why the hell do you think I came here?  I want to save us…Jesus…I made it pretty clear all weekend that I love you.”_

_Natasha cut him off, “You’re not the fool, Steve.  I am.  Like I said, I’ve always been more selfish than you.  But this weekend is the first selfless thing I’ve done with you since we met.  I’m finally letting you go.  I have to.  What Clint and I are up against…we’re not long for this world.  But I’m not going down without a fight.  But I’ll also be damned if I let you help.”_

_She took a breath and continued, “Steve, I’ve put you through enough.  I meant what I said two nights ago, that the light at the end of this tunnel, is for you to move on, to have a life without me.  You deserve that so much.”_

_And just like that Steve wasn’t angry anymore.  He was afraid.  He was scared with every fiber of his being because Natasha meant everything she was saying._

_He couldn’t stop the tears from forming as he heard her say, “Steve, you talk about choices like it’s something I had in life.  Maybe I did choose to not trust you five years ago, but it was only because I was saving your stubborn ass.  You’re not the only one who gets to try to save the person they love.  But you know that my life never really gave me a choice…I only had the illusion of it.”_

_No.  She wasn’t doing this too him.  He had a choice in this matter too, and he chose her.  He **always**  chose her. _

_Clenching his jaw, Steve wiped a tear away as he responded in a defiant tone, “Natasha, you took any choice I had away, when you left five years ago.  I’m not going to let you do it again.  I don’t care about the consequences.  Fuck them.  I already told you, there is no one else for me.  You don’t get to say goodbye to me.”_

_She was right, but so was Steve.  They both had their minds set.  Steve wasn’t going to let her leave, and Natasha wasn’t going to let him come with._

_An immovable object meeting an unstoppable force._

_And they both knew, deep down, beneath all of their pain and sorrow, that neither one of them would give in.  Which is why they weren’t talking right now.  Natasha couldn’t stop crying, and Steve couldn’t think straight, as they tried to process everything that had been said._

_The air around them was cold and stale, and was filled with muffled cries and uneven breathing.  Natasha put on her jacket and clenched it tight around her body, as if it would protect her from the look on Steve’s face._

_He had thought it before, but had never said it out loud.  But right now, his stomach was twisting and his heart felt like it had a knife in it.  He didn’t even realize that he actually spoke out loud, “How can two people who love each other so much, cause each other so much pain?”_

_Natasha winced, and rubbed her eyes.  Her voice was hoarse, “Steve, this is what I have been telling you.  You deserve more.  Even if you did come with me, what do you think would happen?  Poseidon would never allow it.  They’d find us somehow, and they’d kill every single person in my life and in yours…every single person that I ever loved.  You know this.  You talk about me being a drug in your life...I’m not.  I’m a disease.”_

_The sobs had stopped, leaving silent tears, as she hollowly said, “Steve a long time ago, you saved my soul, and now it’s time for me to finally do the same and set yours free.”_

_Steve’s eyes shot up.  He could tell in her tone and words that there was a decisiveness…a finality to it.  And he knew she was about to run.  While that hurt and angered him, he pushed those feelings down because he wasn’t letting her leave.  Not this time.  He stood up and walked around her, blocking her path to the door._

_“This is not happening,” he said with a little panic in his voice.  His breathing increased as he shut his eyes tight and shook his head for a second._

_When he opened them up, he saw the haunted look on her face.  She wasn’t listening to him._

_Steve quickly closed any remaining distance between them and grasped her shoulders.  He shook her, demanding her to listen to him as he said louder, “You don’t get to do this to me Natasha.  You don’t get to do what we did yesterday, and say what we said last night, and then look at me like this is the last time you will ever see me.”_

_The tears were falling from both of them as his voice trembled, “You say that I saved you Natasha, but you need to know that you saved me too.  And the only way that we make up for everything we’ve lost is to start saving ourselves and do this together.”_

_His hands were on her face.  Frantically trying to get through to her, Steve pressed his lips hard against hers.  It was urgent and raw as they pushed against each other, feeling their desperation underneath the surface._

_Natasha’s hands were trembling as she pulled away from the kiss.  She touched his chest, and then his shoulder where his scar was, and then she finally touched his face._

_She ran her fingers through his beard and shut her eyes, like she was trying to memorize how the touch of him felt alone._

_When she looked at him again, she couldn’t stop the quiver in her voice, “Steve you are good.  And you are moral.  You deserve someone who is both of those things and who won’t hurt you anymore.  I meant everything I said last night.  I love you and always will.”_

_She leaned up to give him one more kiss, tasting his tears on his lips, “That is why I have to let you go.”_

_Natasha had always mesmerized Steve with her beauty and strength.  But now, she had distracted him by her eyes, and hands, and lips.  And that was her intent.  Natasha had slipped a hand into her jacket while she was kissing him, to retrieve a pair of handcuffs.  By the time he had opened his eyes from her kiss, Natasha had cuffed one of his wrists._

_He should have known.  As much as Steve had learned to bend the rules since knowing Natasha, she was always able to go further.  And she wasn’t afraid to play dirty to meet her objective.  Right now her objective was leaving here without Steve._

_Natasha used the advantage of catching him off guard to push through her emotions and finish what she had come here to do.  She quickly used the leverage from the handcuffs and pulled his hand down, away from their bodies.  She slipped under his arm, twisting them both around as she stood behind him now._

_Just as Steve’s reflexes were catching up with the shock of what was happening, she used all of her strength to pull his encased hand down, toward the bottom of the table.   Right as he was reaching for her with his free hand, she’d done it._

_She locked the other side of the cuff around a steel loop, underneath the table.  The same table they’d made love on two nights ago.  And he was no longer blocking her path to the door.  Steve realized what Natasha had done to him, and more importantly, he realized what she was doing now.  She was leaving, and she’d trapped him to prevent him from following her._

_He wanted to hate her, but the only feeling that surged through his heart was an overwhelming sense of fear and panic.  The dread washed over him as he tried to yell, but nothing came out.  Somehow, he knew this was it.  Natasha took a step back from him, so Steve couldn’t reach her.  She was shaking and moving backwards to the door._

_Steve snapped into focus and immediately started pulling profusely at the cuff._

_But again, Natasha knew what she was doing, and she wasn’t afraid to play dirty when she needed to.  Her life had required that of her.  The loop was made of steel and the table was solid oak, large, and very heavy.  Knowing Steve as well as she did, she knew he’d never let her go on his own._

_The metal cuff was already forming red marks on his wrist as he pulled tight against the table, “Natasha, please don’t do this.  Please!  Let me go, and talk this through with me.”_

_The table was scraping against the floor with how hard Steve was pulling on it.  His voice was shaking, and her eyes were full of tears as she reached for the doorknob.  The terror in his voice rang through the room as he began to beg, “Please Natasha…baby…I’m going to come after you.  I’ll find you.  I’m begging you, Natasha.  I love you…I love you.”_

_He repeated those last three words a couple more times as she wiped away more tears.  Natasha reached in her jacket and pulled out the key for the handcuffs.  She placed it on the windowsill by the door and grabbed her gun, putting it in the back of her jeans._

_“Steve, I’m going to leave the key here so you can get out of here after I’m gone.  I know you’re going to try to come after me, but you won’t find me…not this time.  And I know that you will never forgive me for this, but I love you so much, that I have to do this.  I have to set you free.  Steve, it’s over, this is the last time…Goodbye.”_

_Natasha stood there for only a second longer taking in his hysterical state and then turned around and ran out the door.  Steve wanted to scream and cry and yell.  But he told himself he still had time.  If he could just touch her again, he could get through to her.  He could make her listen._

_Steve used his strength to pull the heavy table with his clasped wrist towards the sill.  The glass of water was still on the top of the table and shook as he violently dragged it across the floor but it did not tip over.  His movements were awkward and hard from how big and heavy the table was.  And it hurt like hell around his wrist.  He had to navigate around a wooden beam in the cabin that ate up more time.  And his wrist was actually bleeding from how hard he was pulling now, but he couldn’t feel anything except the panic and pain in his heart._

_By the time he reached the key, over two minutes had passed.  He grabbed it, quickly unlocked the cuffs, and sprinted out the door._

_Natasha had in fact only needed a little time, because when he looked around outside, she was gone.  Her boots left marks heading toward the parking lot near the cabin.  He followed the last trace of her all the way to the gravel lot and saw them abruptly cease from existence.  Tire tracks picked up where the footprints left off, leaving deep grooves.  All the signs indicated the vehicle peeled out of the campground._

_Steve ran out to the road pulling at his hair, rapidly blinking through the tears that he didn’t even feel coming down his face anymore.  He couldn’t see a car in any direction and was looking for someone that wasn’t there…someone that was gone._

_Steve told himself that he wasn’t giving in.  His car was **right**  there, but he needed his keys.  In his frantic state, of trying to reach the goddamn handcuffs’ key, he didn’t even think to grab his coat where his car keys were.  “Fuck,” he yelled as he ran back to the cabin.  He grabbed his coat, but as he looked around at the empty space, it all hit him, and everything crumbled inside him. _

_Natasha had just been there, not even five minutes ago._

_They had been together in every way, and they said they were each other’s forever, not even 12 hours ago.  He couldn’t think straight as an ache filled his chest, and his vision blurred, scanning the room.  Seconds later his eyes locked on the glass of water they had shared, only a little while ago._

_Steve walked over to the table, gripped the half-full glass, and without hesitating, flung it across the room towards the fireplace as he let out a loud, bellowing yell._

_Steve watched as it broke into a thousand pieces just like his heart.  The high from being with Natasha had come crashing down with an immense force, and he finally collapsed to his knees._

_He was shattered._

_He repeated her words over in his head, “Steve, it’s over, this is the last time…Goodbye.”_

_She left him before, but this time it felt different.  This time it felt final._

* * *

**Present Day –** Driving

The haunting sound of Natasha’s voice played in Steve’s head, as it had in so many of his nightmares.  He actually had a disturbing dream about her last night.  Peter had heard him call out Natasha’s name and asked him about it this morning before he headed into HQ. 

God, last night seemed like a month ago with what had happened today. 

But his mind kept trudging through the past. 

Natasha did what she set out to do that morning at the cabin.  She said goodbye and left.  But neither one of them knew her death would be faked and that Steve and everyone else would believe it.  Neither one of them knew that Steve and Clint would somehow be working together, right now, to save her. 

Neither one of them could have predicted just how truly shattered Steve’s heart was that day…he’d been trying to pick up the pieces ever since. 

* * *

**_2 Years Ago –_ ** _After_

_How do you begin to move on from five years of heartache, only to finally feel your heart **break**  when the love of your life says goodbye? _

_The answer is, you don’t._

_Steve tumbled into a downward spiral after that weekend, causing his family and team a great deal of concern._

_After Natasha initially left when she betrayed the FBI, Steve was inconsolable for a while.  But in a way, he went through the normal stages of grief.  First he denied it, blaming himself for her actions.  Then he was depressed as he bargained with his team and family, trying to convince them he was okay.  Then he became angry, and convinced himself that if he could bring her in when he went to Russia, it might bring closure._

_How wrong he was.  Closure was not an option when it came to Natasha._

_Russia actually caused Steve to accept the fact he would never get over her, so he spent the next two years searching, until he found her.  And then, the bottom fell out.  Each stage of grief was jam-packed into that singular weekend, and it left him in shambles because Steve knew Natasha was gone and her words were final._

_Steve eventually stopped searching for her in the months that followed.  He knew when she ran out of the cabin that she was gone.  She said goodbye, and that meant the worst thing with regards to their relationship – she didn’t want to be found.  And if Natasha didn’t want to be found, she wouldn’t.  By a stroke of luck, Steve found her in Russia.  But she wasn’t trying to prevent him from finding her then, necessarily.  Now, she was.  His old leads had dried up, and he had no new angles to explore._

_He’d used searching for her as a coping skill and distraction at night time, so stopping, left him with yet another void._

_Steve also stopped drawing his memories of Natasha.  He used to do it as an expression of his love and happiness.  Then, it was another distraction and coping skill when he was restless, and when he couldn’t sleep.  But now it was too painful to see her picture on paper, so he suppressed the itch._

_If he couldn’t see her face, then it had to help the pain, right?  Steve boxed up his old sketches of her, along with all of their pictures and any of her remaining belongings he’d had out while he searched.  He boxed them up and stuffed them in a closet._

_Out of site, out of mind didn’t apply in this situation though.  It was hopeless to search, and painful to draw, so that left Steve with a lot more time in the evenings, alone._

_But he couldn’t rest._

_At first, if Steve woke up from a nightmare, he would go for a run or work out.  But then, when that didn’t help, he drank to soothe the pain.  During the day, he threw himself into his work, more than he ever had before, and never took any time off.  It didn’t take long for the team to notice, but no one said anything because Steve had bad days in the past years._

_But this wasn’t a bad day._

_The day stretched into days, and Steve became short-tempered.  And if anyone even brought up Natasha’s name by accident, he lashed out irrationally at them.  The days stretched into weeks, and Steve began to look like hell.  His physical appearance was still something to admire, but the permanent scowl and pain etched on his face, gave away the fact that Steve was not doing well._

_The team knew **something** had happened, but they let it go because Steve was able to work through things before, when she betrayed the team.  This couldn’t be as bad as that, right?  His friends and family had no idea…because they had no idea that Steve had been in contact with Natasha. _

_Two weeks passed when Sam and Bruce finally cornered him out of concern, and Steve looked like he was going to take a swing at them.  Wanda came over to try and calm him down, because it was Wanda and she loved him.  And Steve loved her as a sister.  But he wasn’t himself and yelled at her, ‘Mind your own fucking business.’_

_That was the **initial**  tipping point. _

_Bucky went over to his apartment that night to get through to his brother.  Bucky didn’t even let Steve open the door all the way before he walked in and started talking._

_“Look Steve, I know whatever the fuck has been going on with you over the last few weeks has to do with Natasha.  It always does.  I’ve let you brood on your own before tonight because you’ve always come out of it.  But you’re not coming out of it this time…Your isolating yourself.  And you snapped at Wanda today.  I’m not here because I’m an over-protective husband.  I mean I am, but that’s beside the point.  I’m here because you **snapped** at Wanda, your family…who is trying to help you.  You’ve never done that before, so you need to figure out whatever is going on in your head and calm the fuck down at work.  It’s affecting the team, and it’s affecting your family.”_

_Steve clearly wasn’t going to talk to his brother that night, so Bucky stormed out of his apartment and said, “Figure it out,” again as he shut the door._

_Steve did figure something out…for almost six months.  He threw himself more into his work and as always, excelled at the job.  It was a welcomed distraction, and he thought he could at least do something right at the FBI._

_But Steve still wasn’t sleeping much at night, and he was drinking more and more to deal with the pain.  Nightmares and memories still tormented him, but at least he was getting through each day, only to wake up the next and repeat it all over._

_Bucky and Wanda could tell Steve was off, and was still more isolative than normal, but he was better than when he snapped at Wanda.  He wasn’t short-fused at work, and he at least tried to fake being friendly now._

_And honestly, Bucky and Wanda were distracted at night too.  They were constantly on-the-go and exhausted from Peter, who was in the midst of his terrible twos._

_So, Steve treaded water, for months and months, feeling like he wasn’t going anywhere, but at least he wasn’t sinking into despair at the moment._

_But the **true**  breaking point came two months after Steve received the horrifying pictures of Natasha’s body.  He went to a dark place after her memorial, and the team let him for a while.  He was grieving a loss – they all were.  But they didn’t realize that Steve had actually been grieving for eight wrenching months. _

_First Natasha left him and their life together, then she left him at the cabin, and then, Natasha left this world all together…or so he thought._

_Steve was grieving, but he was getting swallowed by it._

_The cycles of sleepless nights got worse and the drinking increased, after the pictures came.  Steve’s seclusion was at an all-time high, until Fury finally stepped in at work._

_Steve had his worse week yet after Natasha’s death._

_He looked disheveled with dark circles under his eyes.  Fury thought he smelled alcohol on Steve’s clothing and heard him snapping at Sam earlier.  So, the Assistant Director kept Rogers from the field mission that day.  Steve yelled at Fury, in front of the team._

_That went over about as well as an ex showing up at your wedding reception._

_Fury benched Rogers and ordered him to go home and take the day off, “Go home, Rogers.  And don’t come back until you’ve showered and smell more like coffee than whiskey.  And don’t come back until your actually ready to lead your team again.”_

_They all loved him, and their hearts broke for him.  But they couldn’t force him out of this.  He was going to have to choose to fight for himself._

_Steve did go home, and spent the entire day drinking more than a full bottle of whiskey, wallowing in his agony.  Since her death, the alcohol helped numb him, so he could at least pass out or stop thinking about her every second.  But something about that day didn’t numb Steve.  Instead, it made him a glutton, wishing all the pain on himself he could.  Which is probably why he went digging through his closet and found his boxed-up drawings and memories.  He laid them out on the floor of his apartment as he sat on the floor, looking at Natasha all around him._

_Another full glass of whiskey was gone, and all Steve could do was think of her inches of skin, her tone of voice, and every tear she shed from that last morning with her.  He knew he’d never have any of those senses fulfilled again._

_Steve came across a photo album in one of the boxes and did what he knew he shouldn’t in his drunken state.  He flipped through it, and looked at their actual snapshots from their life together.  The more he drank, the more he looked at the photos, and the more he looked at the photos, the more pain he felt, which led him back to the bottle._

_It was a twisted, never ending circle of self-torture._

_But Steve stopped when he saw one of the photos from their first weekend away together.  It was them on the dancefloor, as they danced to the song, ‘Forever,’ and their foreheads were pressed together.  Steve and Natasha were so grateful to the older couple that took the picture of them at the time.  Now Steve hated the memory.  It was burned into his brain and tormented him._

_He finished his drink and held onto the glass tight, before he threw it at the wall.  He watched it shatter to pieces, just like the glass in the fireplace had, the morning at the cabin._

_What Steve didn’t realize in his drunken stupor, was that the day passed him by, and Bucky called Sarah as soon as he got back from the mission that day._

_The family needed to have an intervention with Steve, **now**._

_Wanda had Peter in her arms who was asleep from the car ride, as Bucky and Sarah entered Steve’s apartment with her.  They walked in, right after Steve threw the glass.  The smell of liquor was in the air.  And from the state of his apartment, with his drawings of Natasha all over the place, they knew Steve was worse off than they’d ever seen him._

_Bucky walked over to Steve, making a crunching sound as his boot hit shards of glass.  Steve looked up to him, and then over to his mother and Wanda, with Peter in her arms who was just waking up._

_“Wanda, why don’t you take Peter into one of the spare bedrooms and watch some TV with him.  I don’t think it’d be good for him to see his Uncle Steve like this,” Bucky said calmly.  Wanda had tears in her eyes, but agreed and did exactly that.  Sarah was in the kitchen in an instant, trying to hold back her own tears.  She got some water and aspirin ready, with a cool wash cloth as she brewed some coffee._

_Bucky looked at his brother, sitting on the floor against the back of the sofa, barely holding onto an almost empty bottle of whiskey.  How fitting that the bottle was almost empty, because that’s how Steve felt.  Bucky huffed out a breath, and looked at his mom.  She had an equally pained look on her face, not knowing exactly what to do._

_Bucky didn’t either, but he did make the initial move.  He bent over and picked up the bottle of liquor, but Steve’s hand tightened around it, “Steve, I’m going to tell you this once.  Let go of the bottle.”_

_Steve relented as he stared at the ground.  Part of Bucky didn’t even know if Steve was in a state where he could remember anything right now, so talking was out of the question at the moment._

_Instead, Bucky lifted him up by the shoulder and helped Steve walk back to his bedroom._

_Steve wasn’t fighting his brother.  He felt defeated enough, and he just wanted the pain to stop.  So, he didn’t fight as Bucky took his clothes off of him, and threw him in the cold shower, “That’ll help sober your drunken ass up a bit.  Then we’ll get some coffee in you.  And then, we’re all going to have a conversation.”_

_Steve sat under the icy water for over 30 minutes, letting it wash over him, until he started realizing what happened.  Peter was here.  His now, two-and-a-half-year-old nephew saw him like this.  The thought caused Steve to stand up and get out of the shower and put some fresh clothes on._

_Steve came out to the kitchen, still buzzing from alcohol, but not exactly shit-faced anymore, and caught the tail end of Sarah and Bucky’s conversation, “I don’t know Mom.  I don’t know if he’ll ever be able to deal with her death.  It was Steve and Nat…but this is worse than I’ve ever seen him.”_

_Sarah answered in a strained voice, “Bucky, what if Peter would’ve been here when he threw that glass?  Steve didn’t even realize what he was doing.  He could have hurt someone.”_

_That caused Steve to sober up a little more.  They weren’t indicating Steve could’ve been violent.  They weren’t saying that Steve was an alcoholic.  He **wasn’t**  violent and didn’t have a drinking problem.  He did however, have a problem with figuring out a way forward without Natasha._

_Steve was drowning in his own grief.  And his careless actions from that grief, could have caused harm to his nephew if he’d walked in five minutes earlier.  It wasn’t likely, but even the hint of it, made Steve think straight for the first time in months._

_Sarah gave him a sad smile as Steve came into the kitchen.  She handed him some coffee and toast, “This will help a little, Steve.”_

_He looked at his living room.  The glass had been swept up and the pictures and drawings were all stacked neatly in the boxes he got them out of.  His mother and brother cleaned up his mess, and god, did he feel pathetic._

_Another fifteen minutes passed, and Steve had downed four slices of toast, two cups of coffee, some aspirin, and a large glass of water.  He wasn’t feeling great, but he was feeling present, and a little sober at least._

_“Can I call Wanda out here without the fear of you throwing a glass anywhere around her?” Bucky asked sarcastically._

_“Bucky,” Sarah began to scold, but Steve cut her off, “Mom, I deserve that…it’s okay.  Yeah, Buck.  Call her out here.”  Peter ran out of the room and came over to give Steve a big hug around his legs.  Something triggered in him as his nephew hugged him.  Steve couldn’t hold it in any longer, and he broke down in front of his family._

_He felt ashamed.  He felt heart broken.  He felt alone._

_“Peter, come here and eat some supper,” Wanda said in a gentle voice, picking him up and setting him at the other end of the counter._

_Sarah brought Steve into her arms.  He may have been in his 30’s, but he was her son, just like Peter was Wanda’s.  That motherly love never went away._

_Steve sat down a minute later as Bucky spoke, “Steve, I love you.  But I want you to look at your nephew.”  Steve did, as Bucky continued, “I know you’re hurting.  I know losing Natasha left a hole inside of you that won’t ever be filled.  But if you don’t find a way, to make yourself realize that there is a world outside of her…that wants you in it, then you’re going to lose yourself…and us in the process.”_

_Wanda and Sarah’s eyes shot over to Steve as he looked at his brother._

_Bucky went on, “I’m not being a dick.  I’m being honest, Steve.  You weren’t the only one that lost Natasha.  We all did.  It’s not remotely the same for us, I know.  But you need to remember what I just said.  And more importantly, you need to remember that she’s not the only one that loved you.  We are your family, and we all love you.  So, you need to find it in you to fight, because we need you…I need you, Steve.”_

_Steve finally choked out his words, “I just don’t know how to shake it, Buck.  Natasha’s gone, and I feel like I’m drowning…every day without her.  So, I distract myself with what I can, but everything builds.  I can’t stop thinking of her…I can’t sleep…and then I snap.”_

_His mother answered, “Steven, look at me.”_

_What a mother saying a son’s full name can do._

_The air was thick with the emotion in the room.  Steve looked at Sarah as she went on, “You have more grit and determination inside of you, than almost anyone I know…besides maybe your brother.  You boys are made of the good stuff in life…The resolve that is only found in characters in folklore.  You can’t teach what the two of you have.”_

_Bucky was tearing up as he stood by his brother and listened to their mom, “You’re a fighter and survivor, who dealt with a drunk and abusive father, and you weren’t that much older than Peter is now.  So, you listen to me, Steven.  You are strong enough to survive this grief.  It won’t ever go away…It won’t.  I know you don’t want to hear that, but it’s true.  Grief is not fleeting.  It stays with us forever.”_

_Steve felt his emotions crawl up his throat as he started crying a little harder.  His mother went on, “You have to fight and find your way through the pain…to find a way to deal with it.  But you have to decide for yourself to do it. **You,**  have to decide that the people in this kitchen, your family at the FBI, and most importantly yourself, are reasons to keep living.”_

_A brother and a mother’s love.  Or in anyone’s case with grief, the endless love of family._

_What it can do for a person when they are in the depths of darkness that Steve was in.  He was shaking from crying, but for the first time, in a long time, he felt something in his heart besides pain.  He felt his family’s love._

_His family forced a lifeline into his hands, and he decided to hold on, “I’m sorry, Mom.  God, Buck, Wanda…I’m so sorry.”  It wasn’t about the broken glass.  It wasn’t about any one thing.  It was about his entire behavior, ever since she said goodbye._

_And it was a starting point._

_Bucky and Sarah came over to embrace Steve, letting him cry into both of their shoulders.  Bucky whispered into his ear, “Til the end of the line, Steve.”_

_Steve had his first good meal in months that night as they all cleaned his apartment and washed all of his bedding.  Bucky stayed over.  The next morning, they went for a run together.  And Steve found a routine in the coming weeks.  And Bucky figured out a way, with the help of Sarah, to stay over a few nights each of those weeks._

_Steve ate, and tried to sleep.  Sometimes he could.  Sometimes it was impossible, but he tried to deal with his bad dreams and nightmares in a healthy manner.  He drew again, and forced himself to draw Natasha, but also images in addition to Natasha.  He wasn’t moving on.  He knew he’d never be able to, but he **was**  moving forward, with is family and his work and his team.   _

_His mom was right.  Grief was forever, but the stages came and went.  Steve still got angry.  But Natasha was gone.  It was a fact of life, and he chose his family.  It didn’t get easier, but he figured out how to get through the thick of it, day-by-day._

_So, Steve was honestly relieved to hear that Bucky and Wanda were going to move in with him, six months ago.  They were looking for a house, so it wasn’t permanent.  But it felt really good to not feel so goddamn alone, even if it was just for a little while._

_It was around that same time that they moved in, that Steve started to stare out at the weather beacon in his apartment at night.  He began watching those green lights blink before him, causing him to think of Natasha and his memories with every flash._

_Those same green lights that were present, the night before he’d run off on his journey, to rescue the woman he thought he’d lost.  The night before his whole world changed, again._

* * *

**Present Day –** Cabin

The journey down that particular memory lane was incredibly painful.  But how could Steve not think of those agonizing months when he was driving to the exact spot where they began? 

Steve snapped back into focus quickly though, feeling like a bucket of ice had been doused on him as Clint’s voice came through his comms, “Rogers, our SUV’s are stashed and we’re in place, approaching the grounds.”  Cage added, “Heat signatures are showing two people in the cabin.  Probably Romanoff and one Russian.”

It had been a demanding 24 hours, and it was about to get even longer.

His mom was right.  Grief wasn’t fleeting.  Steve found a way through it, and he’d find a way through this too. 

Steve pulled into the gravel parking lot.  They had more than enough time from the initial six-hour window Loki had warned him about, but Steve’s fear began rising in his chest.  He pushed the dread away and somehow found that same fighting spirit that saved him from drowning in despair over the last two years.

He was going to save Natasha. 

The last time Steve met Natasha here, there were a few random campers, but tonight there was no one around.  It was a little later in the year and was even colder now than it was two years ago, so the empty parking lot didn’t surprise him.  Steve responded to Clint, “Just arrived.  Getting out of the vehicle now to approach the cabin.”

Even though no lights were around, he could sense the presence of other people positioned around the grounds.  He opened the door, and he smelled the faint odor of cigarettes.  Steve’s ears tingled as he heard the faded clicking of guns being locked into place.  Anyone else might have mistaken the sounds as leaves or small branches snapping in the wind, but all of his training in the military and FBI caused him to recognize the sounds immediately.  

Steve stood behind the door of his SUV.  His vision adjusted to the moonlight as he saw his breath moving out of his mouth at an increased pace.  He put on his bullet-proof vest, and then his jacket and tucked his handgun into his backside before stringing his rifle over his back. 

Steve knew if anyone had night vision goggles on him, they might be able to see the small armory he had strung to him, but he needed every system of defense he could carry.  If Clint and his team were successful in taking out the Russians outside, he should have more than enough gun power to take care of the enemy inside. 

Clint hadn’t actually told Steve which cabin Natasha was being held in, but he didn’t need to.  If Poseidon was sadistic enough to go as far as they had, with this twisted plot to kill Natasha and him, he knew which one she was in – theirs from two years ago.  Following the narrow dirt path toward the same cabin, Steve pushed away the painful memories from that weekend.   

Steve’s nerves were on fire, burning through his skin.  His adrenalin was pumping, and made him almost feel like he was on a drug because he was hyper aware of his surroundings.  His eyes shifted from right to left as he continued on the path trying to remember where he heard the clicks of gun metal at. 

He had about 10 feet to go to the wooden stairs leading to the door when Steve heard through his earpiece a grunt and then some shuffling.  Then he heard Barton’s voice, “Fuck.  Castle, I told you not to fucking engage until Rogers was inside!”

Castle snapped back, “I didn’t!  I know how to fucking hold my load.  These fuckers know we’re here, and I just punched one that came at me.”

At the same time, Steve heard the first gunshot outside.  Jones yelled over comms, “Jesus Christ.  Barton, we gotta move, now.”

It only took a second, but like a house of cards that collapses when one is removed, the silence outside was suddenly filled with noises.  Gunshots started going off.  And it felt like war.  It was Afghanistan.  It was the gunfight in Hell’s Kitchen from eight years ago on a botched FBI mission. 

The air started flashing with gunfire as the rapid sounds of shooting, popped all around Steve.  The darkness was speckled with flashes of light, and it looked and sounded like M-80 firecrackers going off all around him. 

Clint’s voice screamed over comms, “Rogers!  Shit…they know you’re not alone, so fuck the plan.  Get inside now, and save her!” 

Everything was coming at Steve at once.  Clint was yelling in his ear, shots were going off all around the cabin, and the smell of gunpowder infected the air.  But Steve didn’t hesitate.  He ran up the stairs to burst through the wooden door and entered the cabin. 

He was in the doorway, and it was almost pitch black.  Steve listened, and at first all he could hear was his rapid breathing.  He drew his handgun as he stepped forward.  He scanned the room, trying to locate the two people Cage said were inside. 

Steve blinked frantically, letting his vision adjust again, and he could finally make out a dark object obstructing the center of the fireplace, but he knew that wasn’t the Russian.

Even though Steve wanted to run to the object immediately because he thought it was probably Natasha, he stayed focused.  He had to take care of the threat first. 

Think like Natasha.

The words ran through the inside of Steve’s head like Natasha was almost speaking to him in the darkness, ordering him around.

Steve remembered where Natasha was hiding as Steve entered the cabin two years ago.  She was on the rafter beam above.  Just as the gunman was about to drop down on top of Steve, to catch him off guard, Steve moved out of the way. 

The assailant landed on the ground with a heavy thud.  He hadn’t taken Steve down like he’d planned, and Steve stunned him, kicking him in the gut with the full force of his boot. 

Steve didn’t know exactly where he was hitting him, but it didn’t matter, as he heard the man shout out in Russian, “Блядь.”  Steve knew it meant ‘Fuck,’ as the man hunched over in pain.

The Russian dropped down and used his low position to sweep his legs in the dark, knocking Steve off his feet. 

Steve’s back slammed into ground as the barrel of his long-armed rifle crushed into his spine.  He recoiled from the throbbing ache coursing up his back and dropped his handgun for a second from the force of the fall.  It was a second too long though…as the man stood over Rogers, driving the heel of his boot into Steve’s shoulder. 

Steve groaned, listening to Clint yelling at his team.  He could hear the shots cracking outside.  In a blink, Steve saw the flickers of light from the gunfire come through the window in the cabin, and he caught the shadow of the Russian.  The man was drawing Rogers’ handgun from the ground, but Steve flung himself off the ground with a handspring, despite his shoulder being hurt. 

Steve lunged at the enemy next to the table.  He could tell the man was taller than him as Steve’s fist met his jaw.  The gun landed on the ground again as he heard the man holler and spit from the strike to his face. 

The Russian hit back, and a rapid firing of movements followed.  Steve ducked and bobbed, slugging the man in his face again, and then his stomach and ribs, ending with a stiff jab to the throat, causing him to cough and gasp. 

But the Russian was a fighter too, and when he dodged, he pummeled Steve with an upper-cut to the face.  When he shirked away from another attack, he bashed Steve in the back with four solid punches to the kidneys.

Rogers was huffing and out of breath as the man didn’t let up.  Steve was bent over and the attacker kicked him hard in the face with the steel toe of his boot.   

Rogers’ head snapped up from the blow as he felt his skin split open.  The gash was deep on his cheekbone and Steve could immediately taste blood in his mouth as it ran down his face.   

Steve let his rage fuel him on though.  The fight in the dark went on as grunts and rabid breaths filled the air.  The Russian drew a knife from his sleeve.  Bleeding from his mouth and face, and with his ribs throbbing from where he’d been beat repeatedly, Steve backed away for a moment, trying to gain his bearings.

But the Russian moved right along with Steve.

The knife cut through the darkness, trying to find Rogers’ body.  Steve heard the swift sounds of the blade swiping through the air as he tried to dance away from it. 

It was a dangerous tango in the dark.  Steve’s handgun was still on the ground somewhere, and he hadn’t even had a spare second to get his rifle off of his back.  Steve bumped into the wooden beam, the door, and the table, as the man thrusted the knife at him relentlessly. 

Steve was sweating, trying to remember where all the objects were in the room, but he was backed into the sofa next.  But he used the leverage, and kicked the Russian in the nuts.  The Russian lowered the knife for a second, yelling, “Я тебя убью,” telling Steve, “I’ll kill you.” 

Steve went on the attack though, and he found the hand that held the knife.  He gripped the man’s wrist, stopping him from being able to move it.  Steve backed him into the wooden beam in the room and slammed his head against it, and heard a resounding thud from the impact.  The Russian moaned, but stomped on Steve’s foot and shoved his knee into his stomach as Steve winced and was pushed back.

The Russian had the upper hand for a second and drove Steve back into the table until his back was flat against it.  The assailant had a hold of Steve’s vest to keep him in place and raised the knife to stab at him. 

Steve rolled his head away just in time, hearing the tip of the blade drive into the wood surface.  The man had him semi-pinned, and moved his hand up from his vest to his throat, choking him now.  Steve’s airway became constricted as he was sucking in what he could, but the man’s grip tightened.

Steve couldn’t barely see anything already, but the oxygen was getting cut off to his brain, and it caused his vision to go truly black.  But he could still move a little.  Steve lifted his hand and plunged a thumb into the Russian’s eye, causing him to scream in pain, and release his grip from Rogers’ throat. 

Steve slid off the table, wheezing and spitting, as he tried to take in all the air he could.  The man yelled through the sharp, throbbing in his eye and charged at Rogers again with the knife.  This time Steve was slower from just being choked, and couldn’t get out of the way as he felt the blade slice against his bicep.  He kept moving and hit Steve on the opposite arm this time as Steve tried twisting away.  The Russian made a harsher cut, hacking into his forearm, and left a much deeper laceration.

More blood…on his face, in his mouth, and now down both his arms.  There was enough of it for Steve to be able to smell the copper odor of the red liquid coming out of him.  And he could taste the metallic bitterness in his mouth too. 

But Steve caught the rhythm of the man’s movements.  He was taller, but sloppy.  He weighed more than Rogers, but wasn’t flexible.  Steve took a leap of faith that the man was moving towards Steve’s right side again, where his bicep had been cut. 

He was right. 

Steve caught the man’s wrist as the smell of the iron continued to invade his nostrils. 

The blood from Steve’s forearm trickled down to his hands, allowing the gunman to start slipping out of his grip.  But Steve moved quickly, and snapped his wrist back with the help of his other hand, finally hearing the metal from the blade hit the floor.

The man clobbered Steve in the side of the head again and was attempting to reach his rifle, still on Rogers’ back.  Steve leaned into the hold, and swiped his leg to kick the Russians’ feet out from under him, sending them both tumbling to the ground.  They were near the wooden beam again.

Steve grabbed the man’s dominant arm, and forced it back against the beam hard.  They both heard it break from the impact, as the Russian screamed in English this time through his thick accent, “Fuck!”

Steve accidentally kicked his gun when he landed on the ground, but now he knew where it was.  Rogers scrambled for it but the man grabbed his knife again with his arm that wasn’t broken.

The man grabbed Steve’s right leg and impaled him with a deep stab into the back of his thigh.  Steve let out a violent scream as he fumbled until he finally found the gun.  The man was pulling himself up Steve’s body and grabbed the back of Steve’s vest.    

The Russian’s clammy hands crawled up his neck as Steve got a grip on the gun. 

Steve kicked the man from behind, dropped his shoulder to roll over, plunging the knife in the back of his thigh, even deeper inside.  But he pushed through the excruciating pain as he unclicked the safety of his Glock, cocked it, and shot the man square in the chest.  He pulled the trigger two more times at close range immediately after the first one rang through the room. 

Steve felt the man collapse on top of his legs, and felt the life and blood drain from his body.

Adrenalin was pumping and Steve began to go in triage mode, assessing his surroundings and the severity of his injuries.  Checking for a pulse and gladly not finding one, he kicked the Russian off his lower half, feeling the blood from the man’s chest wounds seeping onto Steve’s jeans. 

“Fuck,” was all that came out of Steve’s mouth in a heavy groan. 

His face would be…okay.  At least it wasn’t life threatening.  He felt his bicep and forearm.  They were still bleeding, but they weren’t gushing necessarily.  When he reached behind his thigh to grab the knife, he cried out in anguish. 

The adrenalin had blocked a lot of the pain over the last few minutes, but now it was rushing through his body.  Steve stood up, and if he remembered correctly from two years ago, there was a drawer right by the sink that had a dishtowel or two in it.  He hobbled over to it, took off his belt, and found what he was looking for – a semi-clean piece of fabric.

Steve was puffing out rapid breaths, trying to pump himself up enough, to make it through the stinging sensation of his next move. 

Rip it off like a Band-Aid, right? 

Steve pulled the knife from his leg in one quick move and groaned loudly, “Shit.”  He went to work though, and wrapped the towel around his pant leg quickly and then used his belt to tie it tight around his thigh, creating a tourniquet. 

It had stopped the bleeding momentarily, but he was in a lot of pain all of a sudden, and the last ten minutes started replaying in his brain.  Steve remembered where his gun was on the counter as he grabbed it, thinking about how he’d come within an inch of his life.  But he was standing on the other side of it. 

He used the counter, and then the table to help make his way to the door, and then limped heavily the rest of the way, as Clint’s voice rang through his ear, “Rogers, was that you?  Are you shot?” 

Steve responded, “The Russian’s dead.  I’m okay…I think.”  Clint continued, “We’ve taken out 14 of the men out here.  Rand was shot in the shoulder, and Castle got nicked in the leg, but both of them are okay.”

Just then Steve saw an explosion go off outside that he recognized immediately as a landmine.  “Barton, the goddamn Russians planted fucking landmines!”  Steve yelled at him.  “Yeah, no shit.  I can’t see on the other side of the fire now…can you assist, Rogers?”

“I got your six, Barton.”  Triage mode.  Steve’s wounds were…stable at least, and he needed to help Clint. 

Steve drew his rifle around him and hopped over to the window. 

He wanted to turn on the light to see if it was Natasha by the fireplace still, but hadn’t processed the thought enough to figure it out.  He couldn’t turn on the light yet.  It would give him away to any gunmen outside.  Plus, if the object by the fireplace had been a threat, Steve would be dead already. 

Right now, he had to prevent anyone from getting in here, and he had to help Clint.  Steve used the advantage of being able to see outside momentarily, with the help of the fire from the landmine explosion. 

Using the butt of rifle to shatter the window, Steve heard the glass fall onto the porch outside.  He leaned against the wall for support, to keep weight off of his leg for now and drew his rifle, placing the barrel out the window.  Scanning the area, he saw Clint spring across the field as he tackled one of the Russians to the ground.

He saw Cage run after Clint to assist him.  And then he saw Jones and Murdock fighting hand-to-hand against two other Russians on the other side of the grounds, towards the wooded timber. 

He kept looking, and found Rand trying to wrap a bandage around Castle’s leg as he caught a Russian behind the fire drawing his rifle towards Castle’s back.  Steve didn’t hesitate.  He squared his shoulders, took a breath, and pulled the trigger three times to see the man drop to the ground, never to get up again. 

The kickback from the rifle slammed into Steve’s shoulder, where the Russian had initially kicked him, and it hurt like a mother fucker. 

Clint’s voice rang through as he ran back towards Castle and Rand, “Good shot Rogers.  With the man Cage just took out for me, and yours inside, that makes 17 with your shot just now.  Three left.  Jones and Murdock have two of them in combat.  And I’m going to go find the last asshole.” 

Rogers responded back, “Clint, take Cage with you.  There could be more than 20…and look out for other landmines, I’m sure there are more.”  

Clint yelled back, “Ten-Four, Rogers.”

Steve trusted Clint and his men could handle the rest of the enemies outside.  He huffed out a breath, not relaxed at all, but not in extreme fight or flight mode right now either. 

He lowered the rifle and set it against the wall, and reached over to the light switch with his bloody hand and flipped it on.  He shook the glass from the window off his jacket and vest as the pain from his bruises and cuts now made themselves known.  Steve reached over to the sill, and grabbed his handgun off of it as he turned around.

As the site in front of the fireplace became visible, Steve immediately felt light headed.  Partially from the blood loss and pain he was feeling.  But mainly because the image before him caused panic to rise in his chest once again.

“Natasha?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, rest assured I pretty much used an entire box of tissues throughout this chapter’s initial draft, and each edit. It was rough…really rough, so as soon as I was finished and posted it, I went to have a glass of wine (Okay, I may have had a couple throughout writing this as well) Can you blame me? 
> 
> I might be having one right now as we speak…as you’re reading this 😉
> 
> This chapter brings to an end the ‘2 Years Ago’ timeline. It was beautiful, emotional, and heart-breaking to get through, but also a big part of the story.
> 
> I do hope you enjoyed that part of the journey. And I hope you’re doing okay too…maybe you're enjoying a glass of wine along with me!!! 🍷🍷
> 
> The ‘12 Years Ago’ timeline will pick up again next chapter, and so will the present day.   
> Thank you so much for the support and encouragemnet along the way. 
> 
> I love hearing from readers, so let me know your thoughts.
> 
> Come follow me on Tumblr @eightieskat if you'd like to chat about anything with the story, Marvel, or anything else. 
> 
> Have a great day!!
> 
> Cheers!~~Kat


	17. Breathe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little plot, and then a little fluff, and then some family time, all trying to balance out the last part. (PS Do I know the meaning of the two words, “A little” ???) 
> 
> Enjoy the chapter and image board below!

Memories & Reality 

I do not own any of this or any part of Marvel or the MCU

Chapter 17 – Breathe

* * *

**Present Day –** FBI HQ

It took _a lot_ to render Nick Fury speechless.

Turns out, today was the right amount of ‘a lot.’  Actually, today was a shit storm of ‘a lot.’ 

Because _today’s_ astonishing revelations caused Fury to be without words several times.  Fury wasn’t the only one that it’d happened to throughout the day, but he was the most recent one.  He listened to Wanda, Loki, and Bruce first tell him about the suspicious data points.  They showed him the calls that were made to Russia and surrounding areas, at an increased rate from the State Department over the last three years. 

Specifically, the number of calls had spiked in the last 18 months. 

Then he listened to Sam, Bucky, and Tony, who were all out of breath, from running into the lab.  They told him about the photographic evidence, connecting a mysterious man in photos of Natasha and Clint, to Bucky and Wanda’s wedding, and finally to the State Department.   

Even if it had just been one of the groups telling Fury their findings, it would have been shocking.  But _both_ of them found an alarming connection to a government agency.  It didn’t matter that the evidence wouldn’t hold up in a court of law, being labeled circumstantial.  After hearing about the increase in calls to Russia from the State Department, they were all thinking the same thing.  The mysterious man was more than likely a Poseidon operative. 

Fury had been in this business for far too long to mistake these findings as mere coincidences.  The terrorist organization’s goal of infiltrating had been more than successful it seemed.  The whole situation gave Fury pause, as he stood silently with the six members of the task-force.  He was trying to figure out his next move. 

“Where’s Thor, Rhodey, and Hill?” Bruce asked as Tony answered, “Still trying to find leads within the NSA and Homeland.”

Wanda looked more than concerned, “Don’t you think we should tell them to be careful with who they talk to?  This whole situation has me worried about who to trust.”  Tony waved his phone at her, “Already did that, Wanda.” 

“Well, I certainly didn’t think I would end up on _this_ side of the trust discussion with the six of you today,” Loki started.  But Wanda nudged him in the stomach to get him to stop.  He added, “Apologies.  It was just a joke.”  Everyone was waiting for Fury to say something...anything.

Bucky was letting his worry for his brother fuel his impatience, “Fury, what are you thinking?”  Fury looked around the room and let out a long breath, “Maximoff, Loki, Banner, what did you find with any of the other agencies?  Similar data patterns?”

“We couldn’t get much information from the CIA, but what we did find, makes it seem like their house is in order,” Bruce answered.

Tony added, “Well if Poseidon is as widespread as what we’re all thinking, I’m sure there’s at least a few operatives in the CIA.  But they’re either low-level, or they’re just better at covering their tracks than the State Department…Wanda, Loki, you guys work your magic fingers on the keyboard with any other places?”

Loki smirked, “Well, congrats, Fury.  It looks like the FBI might be the most tightly run ship.  We couldn’t find anything out of the ordinary here.  You and the Director should be proud.” 

Sam added, “Well, we had all of those increased measures and protocols that went into place after Natasha left…maybe Poseidon steered clear of the FBI because of it.”  Wanda blew out a breath, “Yeah, and knowing we’re all still here with Steve and Fury, probably helped the matter too…but still, I agree with what Tony said.  There could be some low-level Poseidon operatives here and we don’t know it.  I think it’s safe to say we need to be _extremely_ careful here.”

Loki continued, “The Department of Defense had similar spikes in data, but not the same volume as the State Department.  The NSA was almost as difficult to get any information on as the CIA, but we found a few odd patterns there too.”  Wanda finished, “And Homeland Security…We couldn’t really find anything there either…Maybe because Maria is so high up there, Poseidon stayed away from that organization too?”

Fury let out another breath of frustration, “Okay, good work.  Looks like the biggest cause for concern right now is the DOD and State Department.  Keep trying though.  I think this is probably obvious, but I’m going to spell it out.  Wanda and Stark already alluded to it, but we trust _no one_ but us.  That means everyone in this room, plus Hill, Thor, and Rhodey.  That’s who we trust...no one else.”

“Don’t forget about Steve,” Bucky muttered under his breath. 

Fury didn’t forget about him.  He was focused on the present, but Bucky was filled with worry, hearing even more about how widespread Poseidon was.  All he could think, was how incredibly stupid Steve had been to run off without any help.  And he was facing an organization that had infiltrated the US government, and from the sounds of what Maria said earlier, other countries’ governments as well. 

Wanda saw the worry on her husband’s face…and in his shoulders…and all over his body, as she walked over to him, to ease some of the tension from him, holding his hand.  It might not have helped much, but having her by his side, did help a little. 

“Barnes, of course Rogers is included on that list.”

Bucky nodded as he squeezed Wanda’s hand.  A few seconds of silence filled the air as Tony pinched his nose, “Nick…I think we’re forgetting that this is a joint-task force.  Meaning, me, Rhodey, Hill, and Thor are going to have other people barking down our backs tomorrow, expecting something.  What do you want me to tell my boss when he asks questions?”

There was another pause.  Not only was this task-force hacking into other government databases, but they were also contemplating, withholding information from other agencies.  They were all in un-charted waters here, except for Loki.

“Might I offer a suggestion?”

Wanda gave Loki a glare, silently telling him he’d better not be joking, but he kept talking, “You all seem to be a little hesitant going against the grain of government regulations here…that’s how you’re built.  But I think you need to test the waters before saying anything at all to your boss, Stark.”

Tony rolled his eyes, because that’s exactly why he asked the question, “I know you have a word quota to get in each day, Loki…but could you please cut to the chase.  What’s your suggestion?”

Loki grinned, “Why don’t I create a Russian spam email?  It will be generic enough that it won’t raise any flags about Poseidon, but it might tell us if your bosses are okay to be kept in the loop, without knowing any specifics…tell them it’s for their safety or something.”

“Won’t they just delete it?” Sam asked.

Loki shook his head, “What do you do with an email that looks like it could be spam from a bot?  Hasn’t this country tried to crack down on fake news being spread by foreign influencing bots in recent years?”

Bruce snapped his fingers, “He’s right.  I see where you’re going with this, Loki.  If we receive one, we’re supposed to report it up the chain of IT, so they can put in firewalls.”  Tony added, “That’s right, Brucie. But if you’re a Poseidon operative, you’re not going to report it, because you don’t want to have any firewalls around anything Russian with your system.”  Everyone was catching on as Sam said, “And you don’t want any un-needed attention.”

Wanda clarified, “So, this message gets sent to the Directors of the CIA, FBI, Homeland, and NSA…and if they report it, they’re probably okay right?  To at least be told that something big is going on and they can’t be filled in, but the task-force is on it?”

“And if they are legitimate… _And_ if Maria, Thor, Rhodey, and Tony are as respected in their agencies as what we think, then their bosses should believe them.  They should be okay with that answer for now,” Bucky finished.

“To put it simply, yes,” Loki answered. 

“Do it.”

Two words from Fury, and everyone was moving again.  Bucky, Tony, and Sam set up station in the lab now as Fury added, “Remember, only send it to those four.  If we send it to too many others, it might draw suspicion.  I gotta call Ross back and make a few other contacts…I’ll be back soon.”

Everyone’s eyes shot up as Bucky and Wanda said at the same time, “Thaddeus Ross?” 

Fury paused as Tony asked, “Fury, do you think that’s a good idea.  I mean it looks like a _strong_ possibility that his _whole_ house might be falling apart.”

“That may be, Stark.”  Fury said before pausing, “But you can’t really ghost the Secretary of State, now can you?  Don’t worry, I was deflecting long before you were all in diapers…I can handle him.  I’ll be back.  Now get back to work, everyone.”

* * *

**_12 Years Ago –_ **

_Steve and Natasha returned from their weekend more connected than ever._

_They had encountered not only Clint, but the reality of how brutal Natasha’s past was.  And Steve and Natasha made a decision that they wouldn’t wait any longer as they became intimate with each other, both physically and emotionally._

_Their friends could tell something shifted between them…The pull between Steve and Natasha was stronger than ever, so of course, they were persistent with their questions towards the couple.  “Come on Natasha.  Give us something.  A little detail of how your weekend was.  I’m living vicariously through you at this point with my love life,” Maria started._

_“You know she’ll never stop until you say something,” Wanda tried to joke, but Natasha smiled and thought two could play at this game, “Wanda, I’m not the only one who had a step forward last weekend…You wanna share anything about you and Bucky?”_

_Maria laughed at the blush that crept up Wanda’s face, but Wanda answered anyway, “There’s not much to say…we had a wonderful first date.  It was a picnic under the stars, and we stayed up talking after we kissed.  Then we met for a walk the next day, and watched a movie that night together…nice try getting the attention off of you though, Natasha.”_

_Maria was loving all of it._

_“Well, it looks like Bucky’s snark and feistiness is already rubbing off on you, Wanda,” Natasha teased.  But her friends kept pressing her until she finally said, “Look…I’m not going to kiss and tell.  Maybe if you get a few drinks in me, I’ll share something.”_

_“So you’re saying there is **something** to tell, right?”  Maria asked again as Natasha rolled her eyes, and the three of them burst out laughing at how ridiculous the conversation was.  _

_The men weren’t as interested in details.  But they gave Steve a hard time constantly that first week back, after their weekend at the lake.  It was pretty obvious to all of them, that Steve and Natasha had finally gotten busy with each other._

_“It’s so obvious you’re not angry anymore, Rogers.  I mean it looks like you’re sun tanning with how much you’re glowing,” Loki joked as Thor added right after him, “Yes, I must say Steve, your jaw is unclenched, your broad muscles look quite relaxed…whatever happened last weekend has clearly been absolutely positive for your health.”_

_His friends were even more relentless one afternoon in the locker room after training._

_“You better quit trying to show us up in every tactical and exercise drill, now that you can top us in the woman department, Rogers,” Rhodey said._

_Bruce even jumped in on the fun, “No Rhodey, Steve will have his cake and eat it too.  He’ll still show us up.”_

_Tony was the last one to speak before Steve’s embarrassment finally made him crack, “I mean Jesus, Rogers…I think you’re oozing saccharin, not sweat, right now.  I swear guys, when he had me knocked on my ass on the mat this afternoon, I thought I could actually see hearts in his eyes…You better be careful though, Cap.  You’re so whipped that I think you’d follow her off a cliff.”_

_“Alright, seriously guys.  You’ve had your fun,” Steve started to say, but Tony couldn’t help himself.  It was too fun to watch Steve get riled up, “Nah Cap…you’re having all the fun, that’s why we get to do this…And we’re just getting started.”_

_Tony smacked him on the cheek a couple times and laughed as he went to the showers.  Thor, Loki, and Bruce walked out with Rhodey, laughing at the whole scene, as Steve was left red-faced, rubbing the back of his neck._

_Bucky and Sam sat on the bench five feet across from him and had shit-eating grins on their faces as they took in the whole scene silently.  “What?  You don’t have anything to add to those hyenas cackling at me?”_

_“Aw, look Bucky.  Steve thinks we’re going to have fun at his expense,” Sam said as Bucky grinned at him, “We’d never do that Sam.  I’m his brother.  You’re one of his best friends.  What kind of men would we be?”_

_Steve sat down on his bench and laughed at them.  The truth was, yes, he was embarrassed at the roasting he just sat through.  But overall he really didn’t care.  He was on cloud-nine, and maybe Tony was right.  Maybe he would follow Natasha off a cliff, but he’d have a smile on his face as he fell.  What a way to go…That’s how happy he felt._

_Steve grabbed his shirt and threw it on, as the men walked out of the locker room with Bucky adding, “Besides Sam, we don’t need to give him a hard time here.  We live with him, so we can do that anytime.”  Sam couldn’t help but laugh as he added, “Any day and anytime…this is gonna be fun.”_

_So, that was Steve and Natasha’s welcome back, but it didn’t deter them._

_In fact, Steve and Natasha spent as much time together as they possibly could – still training in the morning, going on runs, and partnering up when they could during drills and test exercises._

_But now that the dam of their pent up desire had burst, all bets were off._

_Natasha and Steve found time to sneak off on their own at Quantico, to continue to explore each other’s bodies.  Two weeks after they’d been back from the lake, Steve started joking with Natasha, how much he could get Loki or Tony to fork over in cash, in order to find out where they’d hooked up on campus.  Natasha blushed at first, but then told Steve that she could add Maria to that pool, because she would definitely throw in money too._

_When they were around their friends, the PDA ban they tried to keep in place, started slipping as well…not that they had that good of a handle on it to begin with.  Small kisses, holding hands, running their fingers along each other’s backs and thighs, and of course the stares._

_Some of the looks they exchanged even had Loki looking away.  One night at a campfire, Loki had to speak up, “You know, the line ‘get a room’ doesn’t even apply to the two of you because Romanoff has a room.”_

_Everyone laughed._

_It had been three weeks…Three whole weeks of roasting, jokes, and non-stop questions at that point, and apparently Steve and Natasha’s minds were in the same place.  Because just as Natasha was about to say something, Steve beat her to it, “You know what Loki, you’re right.  Romanoff does have a room.  And I think that’s where we’ll go…What do you say, Nat?”_

_It was awfully bold of Steve to be so openly flirtatious with Natasha.  With just her, sure…he was that way a lot.  But in front of others?  Hardly, ever.  Natasha looked up at him, holding his hand out to her as she started to feel warm…and it wasn’t from the fire.  She licked her lips, “Yeah…Yeah, Steve.  I think we should definitely go to my room.”_

_No one was laughing anymore, “Jesus, I need to get laid,” Maria said before drinking some water._

_It wasn’t just sex.  The level of intimacy had surged since their weekend.  Natasha wore Steve’s army tags pretty much all the time.  Steve stayed over in Natasha’s room more and more.  And the more time they spent with each other, the more they started thinking about the possibility of a real future together._

_That blissful thinking didn’t stop the concern though.  Just as the hint of a future crept in, worry followed._

_Natasha worried about Clint, endlessly.  Clint needed time away from her because of how upset he was.  Natasha knew that, but now a month had passed since seeing him, and he was still avoiding her calls and texts.  It weighed on Steve how much it hurt Natasha, being separated from Clint.  Bucky was part of who Steve was, and Clint and Natasha had that same inseparable bond._

_Steve wanted to try again with Clint.  He did.  As badly as the first meeting went, he still had hope that Natasha and Clint could make amends, and that Clint could give Steve a chance.  But it would take time, and it had to be when Clint decided to try.  So he helped Natasha, by just being there for her and listening to her and doing the only thing he could to really help – love her._

_Yeah…Natasha worried about her brother.  And Steve worried about Natasha.  And around and around they went._

_But Steve didn’t just worry about Natasha because of Clint.  No, he worried about a lot more…Specifically, her insurance plan.  It sounded severe.  The idea of her having a list of over 100 names and locations of Russian spies was incredibly dangerous.  Steve juggled with the idea of this list, and how it should really be turned over to the feds, but he knew it wasn’t that simple either._

_If the list was turned over, Natasha’s life would be in jeopardy, and most of the people on the list would probably just disappear and return to Russia.  So what would the government get out of it?_

_Maybe a few suspected spies would be arrested and released within six months?  Maybe._

_So, Steve started to make justifications, and found a whole new rabbit hole to go down._

_Natasha didn’t know anything more than just this list of names.  Separate and disseminate – that’s what she had told Steve.  Natasha’s handlers were careful not to let Clint or her know any specifics of long-term plans or goals, so the list probably wasn’t that helpful.  But it could be useful, to help buy her freedom.  Maybe Ivan and Oksana would conclude that it wasn’t worth it, to keep Clint and Natasha around, and they’d just let them go.  Right?_

_Justifications._

_Oh what love and ignorant bliss will do by helping create a blind spot for the harsh and objective truth.  And this was a huge fucking blind spot that wouldn’t be found for years to come.  In Steve’s defense though, he had no idea just how vindictive Ivan and Oksana were, when it came to Natasha and Clint.  He wouldn’t know that until years to come either._

_The blind spot helped him with his justifications, because Natasha was choosing Steve.  She was choosing America and the FBI.  She was choosing to fight an immense wrong, that was thrust upon her and her brother.  She was fighting to have a life for herself, and her actions hit **deep** within Steve’s heart.  _

_It probably struck such a sensitive chord with Steve, because that’s all he could remember thinking as a young boy - just wanting a chance at an existence, without being hurt and abused by the man who was supposed to guide him through life.  His chance was granted with Bucky and his mom, after his father died.  And they were each other’s guides, ever since._

_Steve fought for this country…So did Natasha.  They fought in the military against regimes and combatants that were doing the **exact** same thing to their people, as Natasha’s people had done to her – oppress, tyrannize, and enslave.  _

_In the end, it really wasn’t that hard for Steve to convince himself, because he believed he was doing the right thing._

_The price of freedom was high.  It always has been._

_So, if Steve had to deal with lingering questions inside his head about his justifications he made for Natasha, then so be it.  There was no question in the end._

_It was a price he was willing to pay._

_For Natasha.  For her freedom.  For **them**.  _

_There were other negative thoughts though, that crept into his mind during their first month back.  Those thoughts mostly centered around Steve’s guilt, about keeping Natasha’s whole truth from Bucky._

_Natasha had shared with the team during their trust exercise.  She opened up to them about the orphanage, about how she had awful ‘parents’ that adopted her, and that she couldn’t wait to get away by joining the Navy, and then the FBI._

_All of it was true, but they didn’t know the half of it._

_Steve would never betray Natasha’s trust and tell any of them, anything she wasn’t willing to share.  And honestly, it was good enough for the team because she’d shared enough for them to know and trust her.  And Natasha **was** good and **was** trying to do the right thing.  _

_That was what mattered._

_But Steve still felt guilty about lying through omissions to Bucky.   Bucky didn’t know about Clint, Russia, or anything about Natasha being trained to be a spy her whole life.  All it took for Steve to settle his guilt, was to map out what would happen if Bucky did know about the insanity of where Natasha came from._

_Steve knew his brother, and he knew Bucky wouldn’t understand.  Not right now at least.  Steve knew the complications of Natasha’s life couldn’t allow for anyone else to know any of the details._

_So, Steve focused on the positive.  He loved her…so damn much.  Justifications or not, it didn’t matter.  It didn’t matter because all that really did matter was that they were together, and Natasha was on the right side of things.  And they were moving forward at a rapid pace at Quantico, getting closer and closer to their time being done with training._

* * *

_Seven weeks remained at Quantico until their final tests and graduation._

_The trainees had concluded another demanding week and had under two months left, starting the following Monday._

_Fury told them all, at their last exercise of the day on surveillance techniques, that they should rest up this weekend and enjoy it, because the next seven weeks were going to, “Beat the shit out of you.”  Those were his words exactly.  They knew, in addition to all of their normal academic and skills training, there were three big tests and exercises coming up over the next seven weeks._

_They knew one of them would be a final driving test, proving each of the trainees could show their skills in traffic and in pursuit of an assailant, under extreme pressure._

_They also knew they’d have a final test in Hogan’s Alley, the fake town that the FBI created at Quantico, that helped the trainees improve on missions through lifelike scenarios._

_The other mission or test was a mystery.  Fury wanted it that way…Him and his goddamn mind games.  It was infuriating to the trainees._

_Instructor May pushed everyone particularly hard in combat techniques today, leaving the entire class exhausted.  That’s how Steve and Natasha found themselves napping on a Friday evening, over a month after their weekend getaway._

_Natasha was woken up by Steve’s muscular arms tightening around her waist.  At first she thought he was trying to make a move, but when she opened her eyes, she frowned.  Steve was having a bad dream._

_She could see it all over his face and could tell from the tension of his body, that he was in the midst of some troubling images, deep within the recesses of his mind.  His grip became tighter as Natasha lifted her hands to Steve’s face and began to whisper, “Breathe, Steve.  I’m here.”_

_Steve’s eyes flew open in a panic.  She searched his stare for recognition as she lowered a hand to his chest and repeated, “Steve, it’s me.  Breathe.”  His hold loosened on her as he started to truly wake up and look at her.  Natasha took his hand from her waist and placed it over her heart, “Feel that?  It’s the same thing I feel in your chest, Steve.  Just focus on the rising and falling motion.  Feel my hand and listen to me.  Listen and breathe.”_

_He did.  Steve shut his eyes for a second and took in a few deep breaths, following her movements.  She could see the tension ease from his shoulders a little as he finally said, “Sorry, Nat…Thank you.”_

_Opening his eyes, he found her staring lovingly at him as she leaned in to kiss him, “Nothing to be sorry about and nothing to thank me for.  You know, I’ll always listen to you too, Soldier…Anything in particular you want to talk about from it?”_

_Steve focused on Natasha and held her tight again, “No, not really.  I think it was a memory from Kabul.  But it could have been when Bucky and I were stationed outside of Kandahar too.”  He groaned as he shut his eyes again for a second, “Damn.  I don’t know…It all gets muddled in my dreams sometimes.  There was the sound of gunfire and people screaming with smoke all around us.  I think a pipe bomb had just gone off.”_

_He opened them back up, watching her look at him with worry, “Lots of images and sounds inside my head, for my brain to dip into…When my mind wants to go there, I guess.”  She ran her thumb across his forehead, trying to wipe his own worry lines away, “Yeah me too, Steve.  Too many images to count.”_

_A few seconds passed as he ran his hands up and down her back, before she peeked over her shoulder at the clock – 6:45 pm.  Steve pulled her back quickly as she laughed, “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere yet, Rogers…but we’re going to have to get up soon.”_

_Steve grumbled and pulled her in tighter as he kissed her.  He deepened it after a few seconds as his hands started to move toward the hem of her…actually his sweatshirt._

_Natasha grinned against his lips but pulled away, “Steve…what are you doing?”_

_She shut her eyes as his mouth moved to her neck and his hand dipped under that baggy sweatshirt on her, to feel the bare skin on her back.  Both of them started feeling more than a little warm, “I’m making out with my girlfriend.  You’re training to be an FBI Agent, Romanoff.  Can’t you tell?”_

_Natasha couldn’t help but smile, “For someone that had a bad dream, you’re sure feeling spry.  I’m serious though, Steve.  We have to be ready by 8 pm, and in case you didn’t notice…I mean you are training to be an FBI agent and all…It takes me a little bit longer to get ready than you.”_

_Steve nipped at her collar bone and slid his hand inside the back of her jeans.  His voice sounded a little gravelly, “I guess that means we have at least 30 minutes to use our imaginations then, don’t we?”  Giving her a sly grin, he looked at her as his thumb brushed along the line of her underwear, barely feeling her thigh, “Sometimes you can be an ass and a tease at the same time, Rogers.”_

_But Natasha didn’t pull away.  The next thing she knew she was pulling his chin up, finding his tongue with hers, and the heat between them increased._

_Steve grabbed her ass, pulling her hips against him as her knee slid between his, entangling their legs.  He started to move his hand to the front of her jeans.  Which caused Natasha to finally snap out of her haze as she pushed the smallest amount of space between their chests, “Steve, I mean it.  We can’t be late.  I need to get out of bed.”_

_Steve pouted…He had a fucking pout on his face with those plump lips of his and she huffed out a breath, “Okay, now you’re not being fair, Steve.”_

_“You know what they say, Nat…All is fair…,” but Natasha ignored it and pushed his back flat against the wall now.  “Come on, Natasha.  I’ll be quick.  And you could go just as you are, and you’d be the most beautiful person in the restaurant.”_

_Natasha rolled her eyes at him and pinched his bicep, “Ouch.  That hurt, Nat.”  Steve was obviously faking as she smirked, “Steve Rogers, you’re a terrible liar.”_

_Before he had a chance to answer, she said, “First, you **know** you won’t be quick with anything.  It’ll be 7:40 before we know it, and I’ll be running downstairs with wet hair and no make-up, and probably late.  And don’t give me that whole, ‘you can wear anything,’ line.  It’s sweet coming from you, but outside of our bubble, it’s meaningless.  We’re going out to eat.  I want to look decent.”   _

_Steve opened his mouth, but she nudged his chest and continued, “Second, we’re going with Bucky and Wanda.  And I don’t need them giving Loki, Tony, or Maria any more ammunition, on how you and I were late, **yet** again for something, because we couldn’t keep our hands off of each other.  It’s been bad enough dealing with their jokes over the last month…they don’t need any extra help.”_

_Steve was trying to get ready to defend himself, but she put her finger to his lips and shushed him, “And **third** , we’re meeting Sarah.  I…am meeting your mother tonight.  I’m nervous enough as it is…So, I would like to look presentable and not like you just fucked the living daylights out of me.”_

_Now Steve blushed at her words and looked down.  But he was grinning.  Because she was right, but god he couldn’t help that he wanted her right now._

_But Natasha was being serious, and he focused on the one thing that she said that stood out to him, “I come in peace, Nat.  I promise, I’ll behave.”  Steve put up a scout signal with his fingers as Natasha lifted her brow, “You know you weren’t an actual boy scout, Rogers...but I bet they’d make you an honorary member.”_

_He chuckled, “But Nat, you need to breathe.  Just like you told me a little bit ago.  There’s nothing to be nervous about.  My mother is going to love you and Wanda.  And I say this without any bias…I tend to believe you’ll be her favorite.”_

_He was kidding at the last part…maybe.  But Steve still knew Natasha’s nerves were real, so he relented, giving up on his…efforts…and got up from the bed._

_Steve pulled her up into a quick hug and kiss as he whispered, “But since I’m a terrible liar, let me re-phrase what I said about behaving.  I’ll behave…until the night is over, and we’re back in this same spot.  Then, I most certainly will **not** behave with you.  But for now, I’ll leave so you can get ready… Now get moving because times a wasting.”  _

_Steve patted Natasha lightly on the behind, causing her to jump as she laughed at him.  For a little bit, he managed to ease her nervousness.  She leaned in to give him one more quick kiss and said, “Now that’s a guarantee that I will bet on…See you downstairs at 8:00.”_

* * *

_7:55 pm - Natasha and Wanda were waiting for Steve and Bucky outside.  They’d called a cab to take them into the city where they were meeting Sarah for dinner at 8:30._

_Bucky and Steve promised their mother was anything but fancy and that they had nothing to worry about.  They swore it was going to be a low-key evening.  So, both women settled on jeans and sweaters – Wanda in a deep burgundy V-neck with dark jeans and Natasha in a Navy blue crew-neck with light washed denim._

_“Are you nervous, Wanda?”_

_Natasha seemed calm all the time on the outside, because her life demanded her to have resolve under pressure.  Wanda on the other hand…her entire essence exuded a calming feeling.  So, Natasha didn’t feel bad in the slightest bit when Wanda smiled at her timidly, “I shouldn’t be.  I mean, someone who raised James and Steve, is obviously going to be wonderful.  But yeah.  Yeah, I’m a little nervous.”_

_Natasha grinned, “Not gonna lie, Wanda.  It makes me feel a little better knowing tonight can even cause you to feel anxious.”_

_Wanda and Bucky had been seeing each other since their first date with their picnic under the stars.  Even though it’d only been a little over a month since then, they were becoming more and more serious.  Serious enough to meet the mother of two wonderful men._

_That importance was not lost on Natasha, “The woman who raised two Brooklyn boys…I know she’s going to have a warm heart.  She has to, to have taught Steve and Bucky to be the men they are.  But what if she thinks…I don’t know.  What if she thinks I’m not good enough for Steve?”_

_Wanda looked at her with a stunned expression, “Oh my god, Natasha.  If that’s not enough to snap me out of how ridiculous I’m being, nothing will be.”  Wanda laughed a little to herself before she continued, “Sarah is going to adore you, Natasha.  She’s going to see how Steve cannot physically stop smiling, and she’s just going to love it.  And she’s going to know.”_

_“She’s going to know, what Wanda?”_

_“She’s going to know that you are in love with her son and that he is head over heels in love with you.”  Natasha hadn’t shared the fact that her and Steve said ‘I love you’ to each other with anyone, “Wanda, I didn’t tell you that…how did you?”_

_Wanda flitted her hand through the air and stopped her before she had a chance to ask all of her question._

_“Oh, Natasha.  You are incredibly smart and wickedly gifted with all of your talents.  But sometimes, your self-awareness of how you and Steve are, is absolutely pitiful.  I’m pretty sure even Thor picked up on it after your weekend away.  Maybe you’ve said it.  Maybe you haven’t.  But anyone who is around the two of you, can see it all of your faces.  You are completely in love with each other…And I couldn’t be happier…and neither could James.  He’s told me how much you’ve brought Steve into his own here, and how happy he is for him, that he found you.”_

_Natasha felt like she was beaming inside.  Steve had brought so much into her life.  Outside of all of the obvious passion and love that he, himself brought.  He also opened Natasha up to this.  An opportunity to connect with others, like Wanda.  An opportunity to let people into her heart.  An opportunity for pure friendship._

_“Thank you, Wanda.  Yeah, I hope Sarah sees that, because Steve makes me happy too.  And you’re not wrong.  We did say, ‘I love you’ to each other.”_

_It felt good to let others in…even if it was something as trivial as sharing a detail from her and Steve’s relationship.  Wanda felt that too, and reached over to grab Natasha’s hand, “Thanks for telling me, Natasha.”_

_Wanting to change the subject from herself, Natasha grinned, “You know, Wanda.  I can’t help but think there’s another reason that you were able to tell that Steve and I told each other...”_

_Wanda raised her eyebrow at Natasha, “Well, it’s always easiest to see in others, what we feel in ourselves.  I think you’re realizing, that you feel the same way about Bucky as I do about Steve.  You love him, don’t you?”_

_Wanda was lost for words for a second, but their moment was cut short as they heard Bucky and Steve coming outside to meet them.  Natasha squeezed her hand as Wanda smiled, nodding her head slightly.  She affirmed what Natasha had just asked, and maybe just admitted it to herself for the first time._

_Natasha leaned over, “Don’t worry.  Your secret’s safe with me until you let Bucky know.  Once you tell him though, just like with Steve and me, everyone will be able to tell…because he’ll never be able to stop grinning.”  Natasha winked at her as they stood up to meet the men._

_“Hey Darling.  You look lovely,” Bucky said as he kissed Wanda’s cheek.  The cab had just pulled up, so they went to get inside._

_Natasha grabbed Steve’s hand and was pulling him along, but he stopped her.  “Hey, you okay, Nat?”  She was.  She was more than okay.  She was still a little nervous, but more than that, she was starting to actually get excited to meet Sarah._

_She leaned up to kiss Steve, feeling every part of her conversation with Wanda.  It became a little deeper before Steve pulled away, “Wow.  Who needs words, when you got lips like those…”_

_She chuckled at him as he kissed her forehead and whispered, “Hey, you look beautiful, Nat.  My mom is going to absolutely love you.  Just remember what we said a little earlier…Breathe.”_

* * *

_The cab ride into Washington D.C. went quickly._

_Sarah flew in from Brooklyn earlier that day.  She was going to spend the next few days with a friend in the nation’s capital, taking a little vacation for herself.  But the main point of her flying in, was to see her boys…and meet the women that they couldn’t stop talking about when they spoke to her on the phone._

_Sarah had offered to drive from D.C. to Quantico, but Steve and Bucky refused.  They had the night off, so they could meet her in the city for a late dinner and a few drinks.  “You’re flying here, Mom.  So, we’ll meet you in D.C.  End of discussion,” Steve said, the last time it was brought up a day ago._

_She was on speaker phone, and Bucky yelled over Steve’s shoulder in their room, “Yeah, Mom.  That way, you’ll have a few hours to rest and freshen up before we get there.  It’s the least we can do, since you wouldn’t let us buy your plane ticket.”_

_“Alright, you boys win,” Sarah started, “But I’m paying for dinner.  End of discussion.  It’s the least **I** **can** do, since I’ll be seeing my boys for the first time in over three months.  And I get to meet Wanda and Natasha too, so believe me.  This will be the start of a wonderful vacation for me.”_

_Sam grinned as he watched his roommates talk with their mom.  It was almost sickening how heart-warming the scene was.  But Sam had an equally close relationship with his own mother, so it only reminded him to call her that same evening._

_The conversation was ending, so Bucky couldn’t help but get the last word in, “Hey Mom.  Promise me something.”  Steve could tell his brother was winding up, to land a joke, so he raised his eyes questioningly as Sarah said, “What is it, Bucky?”_

_“Promise me you lay off the wedding talk tomorrow night.  I know you’re itching for it and all, but just promise me…”_

_“James…”_

_Sarah, didn’t call her sons by their full, first names often.  It was usually meant for when they were in trouble growing up, or to convey a serious tone like right now, “I may be your mother, but I know how to handle myself.  I wouldn’t do that.  I’m sure they’ll be nervous enough as it is.”_

_Bucky started laughing, “Okay good.  It’s all settled.  No wedding talk about me and Wanda.  Steve and Natasha are fair game though…have at em!”_

_“Oh, Bucky,” Sarah said before she told her sons she loved them.  Steve shoved Bucky down on his bed, and Sam was laughing his ass off at the two of them._

* * *

_So, it was set up.  They would meet her in D.C.  It was late enough that they avoided traffic, so they reached a pizza pub, that was just off the National Mall, a little before 9 pm.  They’d also missed the busy part of the evening dinner crowd, so they didn’t have any problems finding their mother, who was already there._

_Wanda and Natasha stayed back a few feet as Sarah got up from the large booth, that was semi-circle, and more than large enough to seat all five of them._

_If the love that Natasha and Steve shared for each other was evident to their friends, then the same went for Sarah Rogers and her sons.  Bucky and Steve went in to give her a huge hug.  First Bucky, then Steve.  Then, that wasn’t enough, so she brought them in, both at the same time, as she kissed them on the cheeks, “Missed you boys.  You both look good…they’re feeding you okay?”_

_“Mom, come on,” Steve started._

_But she shook his comment off and brought them in for one more hug, “One day, you boys will understand.  It’s been over three months since I last saw you.  I went longer when you were overseas, but still.  The least I can do is ask if the people at Quantico are taking care of you.”_

_“Geesh, Mom.  Way to lay it on thick and embarrass us within five seconds in front of our ladies,” Bucky said._

_Sarah wasn’t deterred, and only went further, “Oh Bucky.  If they’re here, then that means they know you both well enough, to know what big momma’s boys you are.  And don’t speak about them like they’re your possession.  If they’re in training with you, they must be very strong and capable women.”_

_Steve let out a laugh, and then felt Bucky’s hand hit his ribs._

_Wanda and Natasha took in the whole site.  Everything fit perfectly.  From watching the small family interact for only two minutes, the women could see the strength and kindness and love, that Sarah Rogers bestowed in her sons._

_Even though Sarah was kidding, Wanda couldn’t help but grin at her reprimand at Bucky’s comment.  Natasha just felt a rush of warmth.  Not for any other reason, then being in the presence of something she had **never** experienced herself, the love of a mother.  Her life didn’t even rob her of a mother’s love.  No, quite the opposite.  Her mother forfeited her love of her son and daughter, by selling them into the Soviet spy program.  And what Natasha and Clint were left with – Ivan and Oksana – could hardly be misconstrued as anything close to parental love.  Seeing with her own two eyes, the love that Sarah had for her sons was heartwarming and foreign all at once.  But what was even more surprising was what happened next.  _

_“Why don’t you two boys be the gentlemen I raised you to be, and go get us all some drinks and put in an order for pizza.”_

_Bucky and Steve smiled warily at Wanda and Natasha, but Sarah shooed them off before approaching the women.  She didn’t even let them speak before she pulled them both into an all-encompassing hug – almost as big as the ones that she had with her sons.  She pulled Wanda in first, “You don’t know how happy I am that there is finally someone in Bucky’s life that is going to make him use the manners I taught him.”_

_Wanda dipped her head and grinned, but leaned into her embrace._

_Natasha would be lying if she didn’t admit to herself that she felt slightly uncomfortable.  Sarah eased any ridiculous worry away, about being mean, or judgmental, or harsh, because they **were** absolutely silly.  But Natasha couldn’t help her nerves prior to this evening.  This was all unfamiliar territory for her.  She’d seen versions of it in movies or television, but she never had a real example like Sarah in her life to expect anything else, other than what Oksana personified.  _

_Uncomfortable or not, Natasha was still drawn to her.  Right away, she could see Steve in Sarah.  Not only in her bright blue eyes, but in her expression.  Natasha had found out, pretty much right away at Quantico, how good and moral of a man that Steve Rogers was.  It was more than obvious now, that Steve had Sarah’s heart too._

_Sarah pulled Natasha into her own arms, before her thoughts went any further, “And that leaves you, Natasha.  Do you know that Steve was mentioning a stubborn redhead to me on the phone only after a few days of being at Quantico?  I could tell immediately, that he was smitten with you.  It makes my heart so happy to know that Steve has been able to open up because of you.”_

_Natasha was awestruck by her good nature and couldn’t help but feel her throat tighten a little.  Sarah took both of their arms and led them to the booth, “And after hearing my boys swoon over the two of you, you’re both just as lovely as I imagined.”_

_Wanda and Natasha stared at each other before Natasha finally said, “Thanks Mrs. Rogers.”_

_“Oh, there’ll be none of that.  Please, call me Sarah.”_

_The men came back with two pitchers of beer and some breadsticks a few minutes later and paused.  They shouldn’t have been surprised, but they were.  And they couldn’t have been happier to see Sarah, in the middle of the booth, with Natasha and Wanda on both of her sides, as they were all laughing._

_They took their seats next to Wanda and Natasha and settled in._

_Steve found Natasha’s hand and held tight as she looked at him with a smile that he’d only seen when she was with him.  It was relaxed, and comfortable, and filled with joy.  Sarah Rogers could do that to anyone.  And seeing his mother’s heart, extend to the woman he’s hopelessly in love with, well, it filled him with pride and happiness.  They didn’t let the heavy emotions weigh the evening down though.  Tonight, was supposed to be about getting to know Sarah and vice versa._

_10 minutes after Bucky and Steve sat down, Natasha and Wanda were almost in tears from laughter, as Sarah told a story about them as 11-year olds, getting caught sneaking back into the house in their underwear, after they went swimming in a city pool at night with some friends.  They made a run for it, after a cop drove by, but forgot their clothes inside the pool fence._

_Steve blushed as Natasha pinched his side, “And here I thought you were an avid rule follower.”  He whispered back, “Well doing what’s right and following the rules don’t always match up.  I’ve learned that along the way.”_

_Sarah heard and chuckled, “So, sneaking into a city pool at 11 pm at night, with those neighbor boys, was what was right?  Is that the moral of this story, Steve?”  Steve took a drink of his beer as Bucky laughed and winked at Natasha, “Well, what’s right and what’s fun doesn’t always match up either, Mom.”_

_15 minutes later, Steve taught Natasha how to eat the big slice of pizza in front of her, like they did in Brooklyn – folding it at the corners and digging in.  Forks be damned.  And that was how the night went on.  It was effortless and fun, and some kind of wonderful._

_Natasha joked about how Steve tried to best her in their made-up competition, during the initial testing in weapons and combat at Quantico, but she went toe-to-toe with him.  And Wanda joked about Bucky’s flirtatious attempts when they first met._

_Sarah laughed, but said to both of them, “But then they showed you their hearts, right?”_

_She was right with such a simple statement.  Natasha and Steve started with this attraction, and then were defensive, and then tried being friends.  But as soon as Steve’s heart was on his sleeve for Natasha, her walls crumbled, and hers was right there with his.  And now, here they were._

_It was the same for Wanda.  She didn’t want to be distracted, and it was easy to shove Bucky off at first.  But his persistency wore her down, until she saw who he truly was.  And the last month has been nothing but incredible, because she finally gave him a chance._

_The pizza was devoured, and they were on their fourth pitcher of beer, as they found themselves hours into their light-hearted and fun evening, “So tell me more about yourselves.  Wanda…Natasha…do either of you have siblings?”_

_Bucky and Steve grabbed the women’s hands at the same time.  Bucky knew that it was hard for Wanda to talk about Pietro, with all of his problems.  And Steve…well, he knew that the subject of Clint, was an island in and of itself._

_Wanda answered first, “I do.  Unfortunately, I don’t have the close relationship that your sons have.  Pietro…he…struggles with his own demons.”_

_Sarah didn’t let any potential awkwardness settle in, “Well Wanda, as someone who witnessed a man with his own demons a long time ago, I can assure you…I understand that struggle inside of yourself.  I can see that your strong and a survivor, just like my boys.  And I think you’ve realized that family is not just blood relatives.  It’s who you let in.  You should be proud of that.”_

_Steve held onto Natasha’s hand tight.  Bucky must have forgot to mention to Sarah about Pietro.  But Steve was positive that he’d mentioned to his mom about Natasha’s rough upbringing, and that she didn’t like to talk about her family life.  He should have also realized that his mother is a very wise woman._

_“And Natasha…what about you?  Do you have the good fortune of having siblings like Steve and Bucky?”_

_No one knew about Clint except Steve.  And Natasha knew that Clint would be furious at her, but she couldn’t help it right now.  Maybe it was the beer and relaxed atmosphere.  Maybe it was being surrounded by Steve, his brother, Wanda…and Sarah.  Maybe it was the fact that she was directly asked a question about having siblings.  No one at Quantico ever actually asked her, because she had deflected away from any of it, and gave the appearance like she was an only child._

_But Steve and Bucky’s mom, was a woman that didn’t let you deflect.  And Natasha realized that she just couldn’t directly lie to Sarah Rogers._

_Much to the surprise of Wanda and Bucky, Natasha said, “I do…actually.  I do have an older brother.  His name is Clint.”  Bucky and Wanda sat up a little straighter, knowing that Natasha was sharing something about herself that they didn’t know, as Steve squeezed her hand, “I don’t talk about him a lot.”_

_She looked at Bucky and Wanda, silently acknowledging how surprising this was to them, “It’s actually kind of a mix.  We are very close…like Steve and Bucky.  We’re all we had to rely on, growing up in the orphanage, and then when we were adopted here in the US.  But Clint…we’re going through a bit of a rough patch right now.  We don’t always see eye to eye and unfortunately, he’s just as stubborn as me.”_

_Sarah reached over to pat her hand and chuckled, “Oh that sounds all too familiar, my dear.  You should have seen how upset Bucky was, when Steve decided he was going to West Pointe to join the military. Then, Steve was equally mad when Bucky turned around and did the same thing.  Sometimes we have to get through the bad to get to the good…isn’t that right, boys?”_

_Sarah wasn’t just talking about West Pointe.  And she wasn’t just talking about a vague ‘rough patch’ that Natasha spoke of, or likewise with Wanda and Pietro’s demons.  She was talking about her and her son’s shared history, dealing with a very abusive man, that could have led them down a very different path._

_Sometimes we have to get through the bad to get to the good._

_Steve and Bucky knew everything she was actually referring to, as they both nodded and gave a quiet, “Yeah.”_

_Natasha couldn’t help feeling like that’s what this night, and everything it represented, was.  The good.  She’d been through so much bad, and she wanted to pull her brother through it, to see the good in Steve…and Bucky and Wanda too.  In all of it.  In life._

_Natasha knew…She just knew in her heart that she could still do that.  And it made her smile, somehow knowing that without knowing any more details, Sarah saw Natasha as who she really was – a survivor, a fighter, and a woman that loved her son very, very much.  And it made her feel that rush of warmth again.  Natasha realized any of the uncomfortable and nervous feelings from before were gone._

_The power of Sarah Rogers.  The power of family.  The power of love._

_The night was over shortly after, with long hugs and kisses on the cheeks.  Sarah talked about visiting all the national monuments over the next few days with her friend and got into her cab.  But she ended with, I’ll see you soon.”  Apparently, Sarah didn’t believe in saying goodbye either._

* * *

_It was a quiet ride back to Quantico because it was late, and everyone was at peace with the how well the evening went.  Wanda and Bucky were so touched that Natasha opened up to them a little about Clint, and Steve was equally proud of her.  And the women absolutely adored Sarah, just as Steve and Bucky knew they would._

_So, they were all ready to head to bed when the cab pulled up to drop them off at their dorms, as it was well after 2 am.  Bucky helped Wanda out of the cab, waking her up gently, as Steve did the same for Natasha.  Steve nodded to Bucky, as he and Natasha were left alone outside for a minute._

_“Tonight was amazing, Steve.  I’ve never met anyone like your mom.”_

_“Well, now you see where I get it from, right?”  He was joking, but what he said was absolutely true, “Yeah, I do see that, Steve.  I see so much of you and Bucky in her.  The three of you are incredible.”_

_Steve pulled her in, wrapping his arms around her waist as he stared down at her, “Thanks, Nat.  We had to rely on each other a lot too…like you and Clint.  But you know…we’re not the only ones to be amazed at tonight.  You were pretty incredible yourself.  I’m really proud of you for letting Bucky and Wanda know you have a brother…I know that wasn’t easy.”_

_“I know I can’t tell them everything, Steve…It’s just…Clint is such a big part of my life and who I am.  I just didn’t feel right about them not knowing anymore.  And…it’s really hard to lie to your mother.”_

_Steve laughed as he kissed her forehead, “You’re preaching to the choir there, Romanoff.  I am really sorry that Clint hasn’t been answering your calls though.  I know how hard that is on you.”  Natasha fell into Steve’s embrace further, and soaked in the safety she felt in his arms.  They stayed like that for a couple minutes, covered by the moonlight and the memories of their evening._

_But Steve and Natasha both tensed as they heard footsteps._

_“I think my ears were tingling from you guys talking about me.”_

_Steve was stunned.  It was Friday night…well actually it was now officially, Saturday morning.  2:45 am to be exact, and Clint was standing outside their dorms, after avoiding Natasha’s attempts to reach out to him for over a month._

_Natasha didn’t waste a second before she ran over to give him a hug, “Hey Tash.”_

_Steve walked closer, but kept his distance.  “Clint, what are you…?” Natasha started speaking, but paused as she looked at her brother’s face, seeing that he had fresh stitches above his eyebrow and a new bruise on his cheek, “What happened?”_

_Clint took a breath, “Nothing, Tasha…at least nothing different.  You don’t need to worry about me though.  That’s not why I came here.”  What happened to Clint may not have been any more significant than any other cut or bruise he’s received due to his life.  But it was in fact, the reason that finally caused him to cave, and come see his sister._

_The day wasn’t any different than any other.  Not really.  Not in his life.  It was another small mission, another fight, another return back to his camp, only to receive his next orders.  Rinse.  Wash.  Repeat.  He was a soldier, but he didn’t believe in the cause.  He didn’t have a cause to believe in besides his sister.  But he didn’t have the tether of Natasha, tying him to that life anymore…because it wasn’t a life._

_He’d had just enough of the bullshit being fed to him today, that he finally wanted to latch on to Natasha’s attempts at reaching out._

_“Why did you come here then, Clint?”_

_“I wanted to say I’m sorry.  I miss you, Natasha.  I know I was an asshole when I met you and Rogers at the lake.”  Clint looked up at Steve as he came closer to them and continued, “I just missed you so damn much, and I was mad because I felt like you didn’t need me anymore.”_

_Natasha held his face in her hands, “Clint, I’m sorry too.  I should have made it clearer to you, that everything here is not replacing you…it’s in addition to you.  You could **never** be replaced.  You’re my family.  And all I want is for you to experience this too…a place and a life where you’re not showing up with a black eye and stitches.”_

_“I’m beginning to think…I don’t know.  I’m not like you, Natasha.  I’ve never dreamed of this life in the U.S. like you.  But I do know that I see how happy you are, and it’s made me at least think about what that could be like.  I think…I think I’d like to try this plan of yours…I think I’d like to not be under Ivan and Oksana’s control anymore.”_

_Natasha was in tears as she brought him in for another hug, “No matter how happy I am, Clint.  It’s not the same without you.  That’s all I’ve ever wanted…was for both of us to be able to live and be free.”_

_“Yeah, well.  You’re starting to make a little sense, I guess.  And I want to try again to know the man who’s made you so happy here.  Will you forgive me for being an ass?”_

_Natasha wiped her tears away as she brought him in again, this time kissing his cheek and whispering, “Нечего прощать, брат.”  She told him there was, ‘Nothing to forgive, brother.’_

_Clint looked over at Steve, “Rogers, I’m not very good at this.”_

_Steve closed the distance and stood by Natasha, holding out his hand, “Clint, consider it forgotten.  I’m sorry too.  It was a rough patch.  But sometimes we have to get through the bad to get to the good…Right?”_

_He smiled at Natasha, as she remembered Sarah’s words from earlier, and she started to believe it even more when she saw Clint take Steve’s hand in his and shake it, “Yeah well.  I’d like to start over and try and get to know you.”_

_“Clint, I’d like that too.  Do you want to go up to Nat’s room tonight?  I can help get you up there…shouldn’t be too hard, with the hour it is now…No one will see.”  Natasha had fallen back by Steve’s side now, as he reached down to hold her hand._

_Natasha knew her brother wouldn’t._

_“No.  I can’t stay.  But I wanted to see you, and apologize in person, Natasha.”  Natasha knew Clint meant every word.  He had to go, but she said first, “Will you answer my call next time?”_

_“Yeah.  I promise, Tasha.  I’ll answer.”_

_They hugged and Clint was gone just as quickly as he arrived.  Steve could hardly believe it, but Natasha was stunned, yet again that evening.  She’d met Sarah, and she was every bit the person that Natasha had built up in her mind.  And now she came back to Quantico, and the concern in her stomach, that had formed over the last month, eased after seeing Clint._

_Maybe Sarah and Steve were right, Natasha thought to herself, as she breathed, feeling relaxed and hopeful…and in love – sometimes you have to get through the bad to get to the good._

* * *

**Present Day -** Cabin

Steve had just taken out the Russian outside with his rifle, from his position in the dark cabin.    

By Clint’s count, three were left.

Steve trusted Clint and his team could handle the rest of the enemies outside.  He huffed out a breath, not relaxed at all, but not in extreme fight or flight mode right now either. 

He lowered the rifle and set it against the wall, and reached over to the light switch with his bloody hand and flipped it on.  He shook the glass from the window off his jacket and vest, as his bruises and cuts and stab wound, now made themselves known with a throbbing sensation, searing through his body.  Steve reached over to the sill, and grabbed his handgun as he turned around.

As the site in front of the fireplace became visible, Steve immediately felt light headed.  Partially from the blood loss and pain he was feeling.  But mainly because the image before him caused shock and panic to rise in his chest once again.

“Natasha?”

All of a sudden time abruptly stopped. 

Steve felt her name escape his lips, but nothing else registered.  His senses immediately short-circuited, as he stared at the haunting image in the room.  Instantly, he wanted to shut his eyes and tell himself this was a nightmare, but he was frozen. 

This was in fact, a version of a nightmare that’d played out in his mind, over countless nights in the last year and a half. 

But _this_ wasn’t a nightmare. 

Natasha and Steve’s life had been long gone for seven years now - the extraordinarily beautiful life they had built together after graduating.  It all evaporated as quickly as she left the FBI…and left Steve. 

But then he saw her in Russia, finally coming to terms with the resounding fact, that his anger would be bested by his love for her every damn time.  Steve realized then, that Natasha was his endgame.  She truly was his forever, for better or worse. 

They’ve had a hell of a lot more, worse than better.

Rewind two years, and Steve and Natasha…they had their weekend.  Their weekend of _pure_ desire and love at the cabin, and what could have been, before she wrenched both of their hearts out and shattered them as she ran, trying to protect her loved ones. 

Two years.  It had been two years since Steve stood in this exact spot, listening to Natasha say goodbye as he was forced to watch her leave. 

And for the last 18 months, he tried to find a way forward without her.  Not just because she left, but because she had _died._ She was gone from his life forever…from this world forever, and a part of him died right along with her. 

Steve scraped together the shattered fragments of himself in the aftermath, trying to pull himself out of his freefall into grief.  He barely did, with the help of his family and friends.  He had to try and exist in a life, where he knew he would never see her again.  He _had_ to.  Because there wasn’t a choice in the matter.  She was gone.  It was fact.

Until it wasn’t.

Because today happened.  That was now fact.  In a matter of hours, Loki pulled the string and everything unraveled. 

Steve ran, desperately wanting the lifeline Loki threw him to be true.  He ran and then drove, only to find Clint and his team, confirming that everything Loki said _was_ true.  And then Steve hoped as he remembered everything, knowing he couldn’t survive it, if she wasn’t here in the cabin. 

She _was_ here.  And minutes ago, Steve killed two Russian gunmen that were trying to kill him and kill her.   Yes, he had found Natasha, and she was here…alive.

And this wasn’t a nightmare.  It was reality.  So, no.  He couldn’t shut his eyes. 

They were forced open by the scene in front of him.  The image of Natasha burned into his eyes and punctured his already bleeding heart.  Steve wasn’t thinking actual thoughts as his senses caught up with his physical presence.  His mind trudged through the fog he was temporarily in, as his eyes absorbed and his head pounded and his heart raced.  And then he felt the bile churn in his stomach.   

It seemed like it had been minutes, when in reality, only mere seconds had passed since Steve flipped on the light. 

And then the synapses in is brain started to fire, actually connecting the image before him with his mind, and he was inundated with everything.  He felt terror.  Sheer terror poured over him as he began to finally understand what he was looking at. 

Yes, Natasha was alive, but her body was strung up onto a rafter beam by her wrists.  She hung there, dangling in the air, in front of the fireplace they made love by, only two years ago. 

Now his mind was on fast forward.  His sense of sight came raging back as he processed every horrifying detail on Natasha.  She had dirt on her knees and bare feet that were bound together too.  She was in a black sports bra and ratty, grey shorts.  The bottoms hung loosely off of her, showing her black underwear underneath.  There was a blindfold around her eyes, and her head sunk down toward her chest.    

Steve looked up to where she was tied, to see how he could get her down, and all he could see was the purplish coloring on her fingers.  The thick rope binding her wrists together, was cutting off her circulation.  He narrowed his eyes on her hands and saw that Natasha’s fingers were covered in dried dirt and blood.  And her arms, that were forced to hold her entire bodyweight above ground, were stained in black and blue bruises. 

Steve’s breathing increased to a rapid pace as he took in the bruises and noticed fresh cuts on her left shoulder.  From the bone bulging out in the same place, he knew her shoulder was severely dislocated.

His mouth became dry and wet all at once.  Struggling to breathe, saliva involuntarily formed in his mouth at a faster rate.  But then he looked at her face. 

Her beautiful face.  His Natasha.

Mottled discoloration peeked out from beneath the blindfold, showing bruises were there.  Dried blood painted her jaw and neck from a gash on her left cheek.  Then he saw a burn mark on her thigh that wasn’t there two years ago, and it all became too much. 

The pounding.  The relentless hammering inside of his head didn’t stop.  Tears leaked from his eyes, now mixing with his own dried blood and dirt, as they travelled down his skin and into his beard.  The nausea was overwhelming as the bile was no longer churning inside of him. 

Steve couldn’t contain it as he retched as he bent over.  Stomach acid violently exited his mouth onto the floor, as he heaved.  Spitting out what he could after, didn’t help.  He still felt sick. 

But Steve saw her move out of the corner of his eye after his vomit hit the ground.  And now he wasn’t the only one breathing heavily.  The smell of his vomit and the wheezing in her airway resonated as time finally started to move again. 

Mere seconds.  Maybe 10. 

That was what it took for Steve to take her image in, panic, vomit, and finally move.  So many thoughts and feelings erupted inside of Steve as he continued to struggle through his breathing, but he was moving. 

Steve stepped over the body of the Russian he had shot, to grab a chair from the table, and moved it across the room, placing it right under Natasha. 

Steve was within inches of her, and now he could see how emaciated she was.  She’d always been tiny compared to him.  But she wasn’t tiny now.  She was _dangerously_ thin with her bones popping out at the joints, under her pale skin.  He wiped the tears away from his eyes, and he remembered his own hands were covered in blood.  The Russian had cut his upper and lower arms with his knife, and the blood had soaked through his shirt, seeping down to his hands. 

Triage. 

Just like before, when he had to remove the knife from the meat of his thigh.  He had to take care of her first before anything else, so he pushed the pain away somehow, and wiped his hands on his jeans, trying to rid them of blood. 

His blood.  The Russians blood.  Soon to be Natasha’s blood.  That’s how he felt.  Her blood was on him.

“Goddamnit.” 

She flinched again as she heard his voice.  She was alert as Steve braced himself on the back of the chair, trying to step up on it.  The movement caused him to grunt from the pain in his thigh, but he forced himself up anyway. 

Natasha was now aware enough to know someone was near.  Her wheezing became a little louder, sounding like someone with emphysema.  She immediately tried to use the small amount of strength in her body to kick out her bound feet towards Steve.  Her first movement almost knocked him off the chair, but he caught her and held onto her waist, “Shh.  Natasha, it’s me, Steve.  Don’t move.  Please, I’m going to get you down.”

She wasn’t listening or wasn’t able to register his words.  All she did, was try to increase her movements, this time using the leverage of him holding her to try and buck against him.  Her airway sounded more constricted with her labored breathing as he held her waist tight in his arms.  It was awkward, but he would never be able to reach her wrists to cut her down if he didn’t try to stop her body from whipping around.

It was like trying to hold onto a giant fish, still flopping around outside of the water, but he had a tight hold on her.  Steve reached up with the knife – the same one that was deeply embedded into his leg – to start cutting at the rope.  His lips were right by her ear as he sawed at the twine, “Natasha, you gotta stop moving.  Please, it’s me…Nat, it’s Steve.  I’m here.”  Her body was screaming in agony as she tensed and thrashed against him, struggling for every breath she took. 

Another 10 seconds.  He felt a snap and the rope began to unravel as Steve dropped the knife, so he could catch her in his arms.  He’d seen how thin she was, but now he felt it as her body limply fell from the beam, onto him.  She had to have lost at least 20 pounds since he’d last held her, and he wanted to scream.  But he didn’t as his leg was crying out at him already with the excruciating pain he was in. 

Steve clutched her against his body as he stepped off the chair, and she let out a hoarse yell.  Her shoulder was causing her a lot of pain.  But that wasn’t all.  He noticed her ribs were discolored from internal bleeding.  That’s what was causing her wheezing.  She might have had a cracked rib or ribs.  It might have been worse, but he shut his thoughts up as he carried her over to the couch.   

Her bound hands repeatedly hit his lower back from where they hung over Steve’s arm and her legs tried to kick out of his grip.  It didn’t matter how much pain she was in…She was still trying to fight him.  Steve almost dropped her, but his strength was able to overpower her weakened state. 

Steve got her to the sofa, but the knife was back by the chair. 

“Fuck.” 

Steve staggered back to pick up the knife, but Natasha was still stubborn, even now.  When he got back to her, she kicked upward and caught Steve’s face with her feet, causing him to groan.  How different this was than the first time they sparred.  

“Natasha, you gotta listen to my voice.  I’m going to free your hands and feet, but you gotta listen to me.  It’s Steve.”

Being this close to her now, Steve saw the bruising was a lot more scattered across her entire body, and noticed the burn mark from before was an ugly red.  It looked like a scar from an electrical burn on her thigh. 

More bruises.  More blood.  More scars.  More, more, more. 

His mind couldn’t take much more, so he focused on first cutting the rope at her feet.  It was easier now that he had her braced on the couch.  As soon as the rope was free, he touched the angry raw skin on her ankles, and he let out a shaky breath. 

But he moved up her body, and noticed slash marks under some of the bruising and blood and dirt.  A few on her legs.  On her stomach.  On her arms.  They were faint and light, and there weren’t that many of them.  They almost blending in perfectly with her skin, but he could see them.  He reached her face and cupped it as he pulled the blindfold down. 

And then he cried.  Steve saw her eyes open, and found the green he never thought he’d see again.  He thought of the weather beacon outside of his apartment from a day ago, _‘Forecast says no change foreseen.’_ He thought of how her eyes were open in the pictures that were sent to him, and he began to shake. 

But she still wasn’t processing it was Steve.  All he saw in her stare was panic, fear, and fight.  All he saw was his Natasha, telling the people that took her and did this to her…to fuck off…and that she was going to make this hard on them.  It was her, with all her fight, but she didn’t recognize Steve. 

Natasha tried to blink, adjusting her eyesight to her surroundings, but it was clear that she had been behind a blindfold for a long time.  Her head shifted from right to left to look at where she was.  They found Steve’s eyes again, but she shoved her body as far back into the corner of the sofa as she could.

And she let out a bloodcurdling scream from where her shoulder hit the end of the couch.    

She was in so much pain, but Steve could also tell that Natasha recognized Steve’s face in that moment.  But she shook her head furiously, still not believing that it was actually him.  She thought her mind was playing tricks on her.  No matter how many times he tried to tell her, she flinched away from him, shoving her body farther back into the corner.  And each time, she whimpered and cried out in agony. 

An image of a feral animal being cornered flashed through Steve’s brain.  He wanted to dive into the red he was seeing behind his eyes.  He wanted vengeance.  He didn’t know against who exactly, or what happened in detail to Natasha, but he had enough…Enough information that he was going to find the monsters that did this to her and make them pay. 

But he fought the urge as he saw the dread in her eyes as her body went rigid.  She was looking at the knife he still held in his hand. 

Steve put his hands up in front of him and showed her the knife and pointed to his wrists and then hers, showing he was going to cut her free, but it wasn’t clicking.  Natasha shut her eyes tight as tears leaked out.  She opened them back up, and it looked like she had gone into a catatonic state. 

Steve could only make the connection that this pattern of her fighting the people that had her and did this to her, was eventually met with her realizing she couldn’t escape.  It felt like a very long hour had passed, but in actuality, only several minutes had ticked away since he first saw her.

Right at that same moment, he heard Clint yelling in his ear, “Cage, Jones…did you take down your men?  I found my fucker.  He’s dead.” Jones yelled, “In pursuit, Barton.  Mine escaped, but I have eyes on him.  Cage got hit in the shoulder, and his guy slipped away…We don’t know where he went.”

“Jesus Christ.  Rand, Murdock, Castle…if you can walk, get your asses over here to try and find these last two assholes.  We can’t let them leave and get back to Poseidon.” 

Just as Clint finished the last words, Steve heard a snap of a branch and ragged breathing approaching from a distance, outside the broken window.  He panicked and thought Natasha might try to do something erratic, not being able to recognize what was going on or who Steve was. 

He didn’t want to.  God, he didn’t want to do this, but he knew he _had_ to, to keep her safe in the moment.  Steve pulled the syringe out of his jacket pocket and without hesitating, quickly flipped off the protective cap and put the needle in her neck, injecting her with the powerful sedative.  She let out another muffled cry as she gave Steve a horrified look.  Their eyes connected for just a moment before hers forcibly closed as she fell back against the sofa. 

He had to protect her.  He had to get her the hell out of here.

He had to move.  Now.

Just like his missions in the FBI.  Just like his ops overseas.  Just like when he was a child, trying to fight back against his father.  He dug deep within himself, and kicked into gear.

His endocrine glands produced what they needed to in moments like these – an endless amount of Adrenaline.  It wasn’t endless, but it seemed like it right now, with the surge of energy coursing through his veins, blocking out the stabbing pain in his leg, and his face, and his ribs, and his arms.  Blocking out the wretched emotions in his heart.  All to focus. 

Focus.  Two Russians left. 

Natasha was out cold.  And as cold of a thought as it was, Steve was glad.  She couldn’t move, draw attention, or do something not in her right mind now.  Steve grabbed her head and placed her body flat against the sofa to prevent her from being upright so no one could see her.  He quickly covered her with a blanket, hiding her further. 

Steve searched the room frantically for anything to use, counting the bullets in his head that he had left in his Glock and his rifle.  He looked at the fireplace, and grabbed the wrought iron poker and hooked it over his belt.  He tucked the knife right beside it, with all of its dried blood caked on.  He felt the handgun in the back of his jeans, and ran (more like jogged with a painful limp) as fast as he could, over to the wall. 

Steve grabbed his rifle, flipped the light switch off, and stood guard at his post behind the broken glass of the window.  He shut his eyes for a second to listen, trying to find where the sounds were coming from that he just heard.

Breathe.

A mantra for a bad dream or a nightmare.  A necessity for life.  A coping skill to deal with trauma. 

Or right now, a reminder that he was alive, and it was a tool for him to focus on, to calm himself.

Breathe.  He did.  Quietly, as his eyes were shut, Steve felt his other senses sharpen.  Cigarette smoke loomed among the smell of the fire still burning from the landmine from earlier.  The scent of blood, his vomit, and dirt…and Natasha’s skin and hair, still in his nostrils.  The taste of acidic bile still in his mouth.  The feel of the cold gunmetal from his rifle in his hands. 

And the sound.  Boots on the ground, shuffling through the dirt, about 20 yards to the left of him.  He heard the sound of heavy, strained breathing.  Probably from just being in a fight with Cage or Jones.  The sound became a little louder as the boots drew closer. 

Steve’s eyes flew open, and he tracked the sound, finding it immediately and saw a dark object moving towards the house, from the direction of the timber.  He wasn’t sure if it was one of Clint’s team members.  Another couple of seconds passed as the looming figure approached. 

Jones’ voice rang through his comms, “Rogers, gunman at your 10 o’clock.  Shoot!”

Jones told Steve what he needed to know.  She was charging at the figure coming from the timber and he shifted sides at the window.  He drew his rifle again, bracing it against the window frame.  He steadied his hand, and stared through the site of the barrel.  It wasn’t a clear shot with the darkness and smoke.

Breathe. 

Steve aimed, and pulled the trigger.  It hit the Russian, square in the stomach, but he dropped to the ground, hidden in the shadows now.

“Shit.”

Jones and the other Russian were fighting off to the left of him, and Steve had a bad feeling.  His instinct was kicking in.  He looked back in the direction of the couch, knowing he couldn’t really see Natasha in the dark, but just hoped that he would be back here in a minute.  But he had to take care of the threat first.

Steve stood up, slung the rifle on his back, and went to the door.  He could still see Jones to the left.  The other gunman…was still hidden.  He drew his handgun, and stepped out. 

Now, all he could hear was his own lungsful of air.  All he could feel was his own heartbeat.  All he could see…was a canister get thrown in his direction…Tear gas. 

“Fuck.”

The Russian’s breathing was behind him, then in front of him.  Steve couldn’t fire stray bullets into billowing smoke.  He couldn’t see and his eyes were itchy and blurred already, irritated by the gas.  It’d be too easy to hit Jones.  Footsteps drew nearer, and he could smell the man’s blood from the gunshot wound.  Steve drew the poker from his hip and swung it around like a sword until he made contact a second later. 

The poker hit the Russian with a solid thud.  And Steve swung again, charging at him this time.  His eyes were burning, and he could barely see an outline of his surroundings.  But he found the man’s chest as he struck him again with the iron rod.  The man was enormous, standing tall over Steve.  No wonder he got away from Cage. 

Even though he was shot and hunched over, the man was still fighting.  He grabbed Steve’s shoulder and head butted him.  Steve felt dizzy for a second, now coughing from inhaling the gas as the man cocked his own gun.  The sound rippled through the air as the Russian was gasping for air, indicating his bleeding was out of control.  But he shot his gun anyway, and it went straight into Steve’s chest.

But Steve was wearing his vest.  Fight or flight.

Fight.

Instinct kicked in as the man collapsed to the ground.  Steve dropped the poker, kicking the man with his with the boot on his good leg, but only causing the one with the stab wound more pain.  His eyes were watering and his lungs were burning, but Steve found where his body was and shot him again.  And then again, three more times on the ground, square in the Russian’s chest because he _wasn’t_ wearing a vest.  His shot to the stomach had already proven that. 

Steve bent over, finally able to see blurred images again.  He was still coughing up phlegm and mucus as his lungs felt like there were on fire.  His eyes felt raw from the burning sensation as tears streamed onto his face. 

Steve’s bloodied hands found the man’s pulse, or lack thereof.  He was dead.  He stood back up, pointing the gun towards where Jones was a few minutes ago, moving away from the gas as his lungs started to clear a little so he wasn’t coughing as much anymore.

Jones cut off Rogers and pulled him back toward the steps of the cabin, “Nice work Rogers.  That’s three kills out of you tonight.  You beat Castle’s number…He’s going to be irate.  Here take this.”  She pulled a canteen of cold water from her utility belt, “The tear gas didn’t get me hardly at all.  I was far enough away.”

Steve took it right away and splashed a lot of the water on his face immediately.  Then his mind rushed as he thought about his clothes.  He needed to remove any of the affected areas, if he was going to be around Natasha.  The panic of being shot in the chest, finally hit him as Steve started patting down his vest frantically.  He removed the Velcro grips at the top of it, and shrugged out the vest and his jacket, removing a lot of the remnants of the chemical from the gas with it.  He splashed some more water on his eyes and then on his hands as he heard Jones speak again.

“That was all 20 of them, Rogers.  My guy is dead as a doornail.  Cage just ran heat signatures of the entire compound and confirmed.  We got them all.  Murdock, Rand, Castle, Cage, and Barton are all back at the vehicles in the lot.  I’ll take your vest and coat back there.  Barton’s going to do one last sweep, so he said to stay put until he’s done…You want help with the girl?”

Steve’s vision started coming back as he took a big drink of the water, swigged it around and spit it out.  He repeated it over and over again until he finally felt his vision and breathing return. 

“No, I’ll bring her back there.  Thanks, Jones,” Steve nodded through a scratchy voice as she ran off toward the SUVs.

Steve’s head felt like a jackhammer was going off inside of it, from where the giant Russian head butted him.  But he needed to get back to the cabin.  The Adrenaline was leaving his body fast as the pain returned, along with all of the dread and fear from before, after finding Natasha. 

He ran up the steps and flipped the light back on.  She was still on the couch under the blanket.  Untouched and safe.

Safe – what the hell did that even mean anymore?

The tears were falling from him now, and it wasn’t from the gas.  He limped over to the couch as too many thoughts started rushing to the surface of his brain, ‘What happened, Nat?  This is all my fault.  I should have found a way to stop you from leaving.’

The burden Steve put on himself throughout his life was remarkable.  He was only one man, with only two hands, but he tried to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders when it came to protecting his loved ones and took on all the guilt that followed.

Steve could feel himself getting nauseous again as he pulled back the blanket.  He was in so much pain, he couldn’t tell where the physical ended and the emotional began.  But it was odd because with all of that pain, his love for her drove through it all.  An anguished sob came out of him as he kneeled down by her.

His hand met the dried blood on her cheek as his thumb brushed against her face.  With trembling fingers, he grazed her nose…her lips…her hair.  Time was of the essence, but Steve leaned over.  He had to.  He swallowed the pain through his burning throat and sickened stomach as he got right by her ear, “I love you, Natasha.  I’m going to get you out of here.”

Steve placed a tender kiss on her forehead as a couple of his tears fell onto her skin.  Even though the smell of blood, dirt and sweat filled the air, he could still make out the faint scent of her skin that he never thought he would get to breathe in again. 

Steve’s chest was already starting to bruise from where he was shot.  He rubbed his hand over the spot and realized he’d never actually cut her wrists free.  Steve focused again, pulling the knife from his belt and cut through the rope, easily now that she wasn’t fighting him.  Her wrists were as raw as her ankles were.  He held her frail hands and watched the purple coloring recede as blood flow returned to normal in them.  Focus.  She was alive and that was all that mattered right now. 

Clint had said to sit tight for a few minutes while they searched the grounds one last time, making sure they didn’t miss anything.  And the minutes felt like hours.  Just like in the military, the down time in between gunfire and attacks was awful.  He couldn’t stay sitting here right now, because he would start to think.  And if he started to think, he might crumble. 

Steve paced with his gun in hand, looking at the Russian on the floor.  Stepping around his vomit.  Looking out the shattered window.  Trying to keep their history out of his head in this very cabin.  Trying to keep all of his thoughts at bay.

He moved back to the kitchen, splashed his face with more cold water.  Ran his mouth under the tap and spit out some more mucus from his throat and blew out what he could from his nose.  He tried to wash his hands clean from the blood, but it didn’t all come off.  And he looked at his shirt.  Long-sleeved, but soaked through where the first Russian had cut him on the forearm and bicep.  He found a couple of other dishtowels and padded the wounds, wrapping them as tightly as he could. 

Five long minutes had passed.  And Steve couldn’t stop looking at the dead body on the floor, the dying fire out the window where he knew more bodies were, and then over at Natasha on the couch.  Keep moving.  Don’t think.  But five minutes was too long.

Steve walked over to the back of the sofa, pausing for a second as he watched her breathe. 

Thoughts of all the pain she endured over the last 21 months eroded any control Steve was clinging onto.  Steve couldn’t comprehend what she had been through in that long of a timespan, but the sight of her gave him a good idea.  She didn’t even recognize him.  He finally got her back, and she was alive.  But Natasha couldn’t see _him._ All she saw was another person trying to do her harm, and she screamed and fought against him. 

And suddenly, the overwhelming rush overpowered him.  The memories.  The pain.  Her goodbye.  Their love.  What happened to her.  Her goddamn memorial they had for her.  The men he just killed.  Every fucking thing they had been through, both together and apart…and it was too much as he looked at her bruised and weakened body as the queasy feeling in his stomach took over. 

Steve lurched over and vomited again behind the couch. 

Placing his hands on his knees, Steve put his head between them for a moment to try and collect his bearings.  He tried to inhale, but it didn’t help.  He was flooded with his thoughts and it felt like there was a vacuum overhead, sucking all the oxygen out of the room. 

He was crying.  He threw up.  And Now he struggled to catch his breath. 

These were not side effects from the teargas. 

Steve felt like the room was getting smaller as he gripped the back of the couch and finally let out a guttural yell.

“Rogers, did you just scream?  What’s going on?  Is Natasha okay?” 

Hearing Clint’s voice, Steve snapped out of it and wiped his forehead, inhaling his first big gulp of air in close to 15 minutes, “She’s alive Clint.  I had to use the sedative.” 

“Alright.  That’s why I gave it to you.  Jones told me you got the other Russian.  We just ran another sweep.  The coast is clear…Do you need help getting Natasha back to your SUV?” 

And just like that, Steve could move because he had a task.  He could focus again and pushed all of the thoughts away as his Adrenaline kicked in, “No, I got her.  I’ll be back in the parking lot in two minutes.”

I got her.

Steve quickly moved to open the door, threw his rifle over his back again, and put his handgun and knife back in his jeans.  He walked over to Natasha and bent over, ignoring the sharp aches and throbbing throughout his leg and his entire body. 

Keeping her body wrapped in the blanket that covered her, Steve picked her up under her back and knees.  He looked down at her and just whispered, “I got you, Nat” and gave her another kiss on the forehead.  He was careful, and it took him a little longer than it normally would have because of his leg, but Steve carried her out the door he barged in, not even an hour ago.  He carried her down the dirt path he’d walked up two years ago.  He carried her all the way back to the safety of his vehicle.  

* * *

Clint and his team had pulled their vehicles into the parking lot.  He spotted Steve carrying Natasha and ran up to them immediately.  Adrenaline had the same effect on Clint, pushing away his thoughts as long as he had something to do.  But now that he saw her, he placed his hands on her head and started crying. 

“I love you, Natasha.”  He took a second to wipe his tears, “Я люблю тебя.”  Saying the same thing in Russian to her.  Clint grabbed her hands that were over the blanket, as she limply lied against Steve’s chest, and he took in how she looked.  Even though it was dark out, he could tell the dire condition she was in and that she needed medical attention immediately. 

Clint opened the backseat door to Steve’s SUV and ran over to his own vehicle to grab a bag out of it.  He hurried back and opened up the opposite side of Steve’s backseat.  Steve gently placed Natasha inside, laid his rifle on the floor, and looked at Clint as the overhead light shined down on her.  “What’s in the bag, Clint?”

“Medical necessities.  Do you know how to run an IV into her?”

More mystery and surprises.  Steve ran his fingers through his hair, “Clint, she needs to be at the hospital…now.”

“Steve, we can’t go to a hospital.  You know that.  My team is cleaning up the grounds now and are going to take care of getting rid of the bodies, but it won’t be long until Poseidon figures out what happened here.  And when they do, they’re going to come after you and Natasha…and probably me, because I’m sure they’ll realize that I’m still alive.  You know how unsecure a hospital can be.” 

“Goddamnit Clint,” Steve quickly answered, “We can’t go on the run with her.  Look at her.  I was only able to move her because I drugged her.  When that wears off, she’s going to try to get away from us, or fight us…She’s so frail that she could easily hurt herself more…she’s not in the right mindset.”

Steve took a deep breath as his voice began to waiver, “I don’t even know how much damage is done to her actual body, but it’s bad, Clint.  As far as I can tell, she has at least several broken ribs, a very severe dislocation in her shoulder, and probably has other broken bones and internal bleeding that I can’t see.  Not to mention the new burn scar on her thigh, and all the cuts and bruises all over her body.  Fuck, Clint.  Look at her.  Look at how thin her face is.  Look at all the bones popping out.  She’s was so goddamn light to carry, I felt like she would break if I dropped her.”

Clint stared at his sister with the same panicked state Steve had when he first saw Natasha in the cabin.  Steve thought he might actually get sick too, but Clint didn’t and cleared his throat as he tried to figure out what they were going to do next.

“Well, if we can’t go on the run, and we can’t go to the hospital, I’m pretty sure that leaves us with limited options.”  Clint groaned in frustration, “Okay, Rogers.  I can try and find a doctor on the black market that can help us.”

Steve shook his head profusely as he stared across the seat between the open doors at Clint, “No way, Barton.  I’m not going to let some off the books guy touch her, when we don’t even know half of what is going on in her body.  Clint… _look_ at her.  Listen to her.  She needs real medical equipment and a real doctor.” 

Steve pulled off the blanket for a moment so Clint could see the full image of his sister’s broken body.  Clint’s eyes became dark, filling with the same terror as Steve’s did as a vein became visible on his forehead, “Then what the fuck do you propose, Rogers?”

Steve hesitated for a second, while he covered Natasha back up with the blanket, “You’re not going to like it, but you need to listen to me.  I agree we can’t go to the hospital.  But we do need a real doctor.  Bruce Banner will be able to help her, and the FBI will be more secure than anywhere we can take her.”

Steve paused and took a breath, looking down at Natasha, “And we’ll be able to watch over her there, in the medical suite on our floor.  No running.  No hospital.  This is the only solution here.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me, Steve?”

Clint snapped, “Poseidon is one of the greatest threats to America right now.  And you want to bring my sister, who worked for that same program over the last seven years…My sister, who was thought to be dead for the last year and a half…you want to take her back to the organization she betrayed?  What makes you think anyone there will help her?  I know your friends from the CIA and NSA are helping too.  No.  No way is my sister going into a lion’s den of law enforcement.”

Steve shouted right back at Clint, “No.  You fucking listen to me, Clint.  I blindly followed you here tonight to save her…after everything.  I trusted you because we both love her.” 

Steve took a moment to look down at Natasha as his voice cracked, “Now it’s time for you to trust me, because Natasha will not survive without being under constant protection and medical attention.  I know you don’t think the FBI will help, and I’m sure there are a lot of people who work there that wouldn’t.  But I can tell you, you can trust _my team_.  You trust me…so you can trust them.  Natasha would tell you that too.” 

He took a deep breath and finished, “Clint, I’m not trying to separate you from her.  You’re coming with me to the FBI.”  Clint glared at him as he slammed the door shut and trudged over to Steve’s side and got in his face, “Are you trying to fucking arrest me, Rogers?” 

Steve reached his breaking point with all of it, and Clint tipped him over the edge. 

He grabbed Clint’s coat and slammed his back into the side of the SUV, yelling, “Arrest you?  This isn’t about you, Clint.  Goddamnit.  Look at what happened to her.  While _you_ were supposed to be protecting her.  And now look at her!”

Both men’s blood had reached their boiling point as Steve pulled Clint away from the SUV and shoved him away from the vehicle in the gravel parking lot.  Five feet stood between the enraged men.  Steve wasn’t feeling anything right now except for anger…At everything, and Clint was an easy target.  Clint felt the exact same way. 

Steve leaned his head forward and charged at Clint, slamming into his chest, tackling him to the ground.

Rogers landed a solid punch on Clint’s cheek.  Clint used the gravity of Steve’s momentum and kicked him off of him.  Now both men, lay flat on their backs with the gravel rocks digging into them. 

Clint’s team looked over at them as they were cleaning up, but they knew better than to intervene.  And honestly, their zero-fucks to give mentality about the personal bullshit between Clint and Steve, was very strong at the moment.  They had a lot of work to do themselves, cleaning up 20 bodies and a campground filled with ammo, landmines, and a now smashed up cabin. 

The storm had been brewing between Clint and Steve for seven long years, and they were in the thick of it now.  

Barton let out a rough grunt and quickly responded as he dug his hand into the rocks for leverage to push himself towards Rogers.  His knees dug into the gravel, crawling over to Steve, releasing a stream of punches on his face and ribs.  A large cut opened on Steve’s other cheek, now mirroring the laceration on his other side.

Clint knocked the wind out of Steve, causing him to gasp for air, but he was able to reach into the rocks. Grabbing a fistful, he threw them up at Clint and caught him off guard.  Just as the dust from the gravel clung to Clint’s sweaty face, Steve used his knee to slam into Clint’s chest, flinging him off of him.  Rogers pulled himself over to him, and through strained breathing and with bloody hands, returned the same punches to Clint’s face and body. 

Clint’s lip was bleeding from being split open.  He hooked his leg around Steve’s foot…the leg with tourniquet, and dug his hands into the meat of his thigh, right next to the bleeding, stab wound.  Steve let out a perilous yell from the shooting pain and fell on his back, right next to Clint as he grabbed his leg. 

Both men were overcome with guilt and blame, and the fighting ceased.   

They lay flat on the gravel lot, awkwardly next to each other, bleeding from their faces.  All while trying to regain their breath and mindset.  “I am asking you to trust me, Clint.” 

Steve sat up and strained, groaning as he used his hands to push himself up from the rocks.  Once he stood up, he looked down at Clint and extended his hand to help him up too.  Clint looked up at, exhaled, and reached for Steve to pull himself up as well. 

Both men brushed off the dirt and rocks as Steve continued, “You started to do that a long time ago when Natasha and I were together.  You know I would never do anything to endanger her.”

The gravity of what just happened was setting in on both of them.  Steve took a deep breath and wiped the blood off of his cheek, but it only caused it to smear.  They both looked like hell.  But Steve especially…he looked like he’d just been through war.  And in a way, he had.

“You told me that you and Natasha have been trying to take down Poseidon.  Well, so has the FBI…they just didn’t know the name and face of who they were fighting.  I know Rhodey, Stark, Thor, and Maria are probably still at Headquarters, so the CIA, NSA, and Homeland are all trying to take them down too.  So, the way I see it, is come in, help the FBI bring down these fuckers, so you and your sister can finally be free.  You agree to do that, and I promise you…”

He took a breath, “Clint, I give you my word, that you and Natasha will be under the full protection of the FBI, and that Natasha will receive the medical help she’s in desperate need of from Banner.” 

Steve stepped back from Clint to give him space and finished, “I took a leap of faith in trusting you tonight, when I really wanted to just beat the shit out of you.  I put all of our baggage aside a few hours ago because I love your sister.  You _have_ to believe me, when I tell you that my world ended when I thought I lost her.  Now she’s back, and I can’t even wrap my head around what’s happened today…But it doesn’t matter, because she’s here and _alive_.  And I promise you, I will not let anything happen to her.  So, I’m asking…do you trust me?”

Somewhere over the last few minutes while Steve was talking, Clint’s feelings behind his stare shifted from anger to acceptance.  “I guess if I don’t, you’re going to beat the shit out of me again, right?” 

Clint smirked at Steve.  Their aggression was gone as both men came to their silent conclusion.  They were taking Natasha back to the FBI Headquarters in New York. 

Clint gave Steve the medical bag and said, “If any of those broken ribs have punctured a lung in Natasha, we’re in big trouble so we need to get ahead of it.  You get in the back with her, get an IV going in her that’s full nutrients and antibiotics, and get that oxygen mask on her.  It’s all in the bag.  While you’re doing that, I’m going to get my guys situated and make sure they have the clean-up operation taken care of.  Like I said, we only have about two hours left before Poseidon comes looking, so we need to all be long gone by then.  You can stay in the back with Natasha, and when I’m done with my men, I’ll drive us…to the FBI.”

Steve hesitated at Barton’s suggestion as Clint caught on, “We’re going to have to keep that trust going, right Steve?  Clint paused as both men nodded at each other and finished, “And Rogers…thank you for saving my sister…for saving Natasha…And clean yourself up too with the supplies in the bag.  You look like shit.”

Steve exhaled as he felt his chest tighten at Clint’s words.  Both men understood just how close they’d come to losing her, “You did the right thing by finding me Clint, and you’re doing the right thing now.  We _both_ saved her.”

They nodded, acknowledging each other’s thank you, and really acknowledging the silent apology that neither of them said aloud from their scuffle a few minutes ago.  Steve watched Clint walk over to his team as he walked around the back of the SUV and gave the small group of mercenaries all a grateful nod.  Steve raised his hand in thanks to them. 

“Nice work tonight, Rogers.  If you ever want to blow some shit up with us, just let us know…You’d be a good addition in helping us defend…whatever.” Jones said. 

Rand heard her and yelled out, “Hey, that’s a great idea, Jessica.  The Defenders.  That’s what we should call ourselves.”  She glared at him as Murdock said, “Rand, no first names while on a mission.  Now get back over here.”  Castle shouted over them both, “We’re not giving ourselves a fucking nickname.”  Cage shut them all up, telling them to get moving and get the bodies into the backs of the SUVs, now. 

Steve didn’t even want to think of what the term ‘clean-up’ really meant when Clint said it, but he had a pretty good idea when he saw the Russian bodies, literally pile up by their SUV’s as the team continued putting them in the backs of them. 

Steve shuddered away from those thoughts as he cleaned up his hands with some water and alcohol in the bag and opened the door.  He climbed in the backseat and put the medical bag on the console, while gently lifting up Natasha’s head, setting her in his lap.  He had to push through his emotions a little longer until he got to the FBI.  He realized he should call Sam or Bucky or Fury, but he removed the battery from his phone when he ran from headquarters earlier and threw it out the window without thinking.  So, his phone was useless…it wasn’t an option at the moment.

“Well, they’re going to be in for a surprise,” Steve said out loud as his emotions started flooding back to him again.  He could see Natasha’s chest rising and falling, but her breathing was more than strenuous as the wheezing was getting more noticeable. 

His mind went back to work.  Breathe.  Triage.  Focus. 

Steve quickly opened up Clint’s bag.  He had medic training…both he and Bucky did from their days in the army.  It had come in handy from time to time in the FBI while on missions, and it was more than needed right now.  Natasha might have been okay without the IV until they got back to the FBI, but Steve would rather be safe than sorry. 

He and Clint foolishly lost five minutes with their fight on the ground.  They had both let their emotions get the best of them for a bit, and left marks to prove it.  But more importantly, they wasted precious time to get Natasha out of here. 

Be safe versus sorry…She needed help, and she needed it now. 

Steve took some more alcohol and peroxide wipes out of the bag and opened them to clean his hands again, and then Natasha’s forearm.  Looking at the bruising on her skin, and then at how frail she looked while listening to her, he couldn’t help but let out an uneven breath as his hand started to shake. 

“Come on, Steve.  Get it together.”

Steve squeezed his hand, focusing on her being safe in his arms right now.  He exhaled a few times, more steadily now, and got to work.  Her veins were easily noticeable in her arms with how weak she appeared.  Finding the IV bag in Clint’s supplies, he looped it over the hook for hangers in the back of the SUV, stringing the plastic tube across the backseat. 

Steve swallowed his guilt for drugging her earlier, “I had to do it to keep you safe, Natasha.”

It didn’t help much.  Steve cursed at himself, because his mind wandered, imagining how she was probably transported to the cabin, bound and tied up in a trunk.  Then the images quickly transformed in his mind to how she received all the cuts, bruises, broken ribs, and scars.  And he couldn’t pull himself out of it.

Tears were falling onto Natasha’s forehead from Steve, and it snapped him out of his spiral.  The needle.  The IV.  He flipped on the battery powered IV pump Clint had and knew she probably weighed around 100 pounds.  He thought back to his training, and how to calculate the ratio for the IV fluid.  Approximately 100 pounds…around 84 ml/ hr.  But she was more than dehydrated so he upped it at a rate of 1.5 and put 128 ml/ hr in the pump.  It was a start. 

Steve fell back into focus as he grabbed the entry needle that would attach to the IV line and was thankful now that she was sedated.  He felt the vein, and flicked the needle to remove the air bubble, and lined it up, sticking her successfully with it.  Taping the needle to her arm, he capped it off and screwed in the IV line as the pump started working, and liquid started trickling into her bloodstream. 

Steve found the small oxygen tank from the bag, flipped it on, and put the mask gently over her mouth and nose.  He saw her take in in the clean air as her chest rose and fell slowly.  Her breathing was still labored, but it was a little better.  There was nothing else he could do right now as he leaned over to kiss her forehead, “I love you, Nat.  You’re safe now.”

For the first time, in a very, _very_ long time, Steve let out a small sigh of relief. 

For the first time all day, he felt like he could breathe. 

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, we’re at the halfway point…That doesn’t necessarily mean that I expect exactly 34 chapters. It just means plot wise with my outline, we got to a big emotional point in their journey during this chapter. Steve found Natasha. Actually I would anticipate it to be more in the 25 – 30 range for number of chapters.
> 
> I know this was a tough one at the end. And I know I’m big on not spoiling anything, but…Since we’re at the halfway mark, I do want you to know that I might drag you through a lot, and put a hell of a lot of angst on your shoulders…but remember what Sarah Rogers said – Sometimes you have to go through the bad to get to the good. :)
> 
> Thank you as always for the support for this crazy world I’ve created here. It just means so much to me. 
> 
> I love hearing from readers, so let me know your thoughts.
> 
> Come follow me on Tumblr @eightieskat if you'd like to chat about anything with the story, Marvel, or anything else.
> 
> Have a great day!!
> 
> Cheers!~~Kat


	18. Drive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I absolutely loved writing the end part of this chapter. I hope you all like the cameo that I put in this one, as much as I did. I had a lot of fun writing it.
> 
> Fury’s newest test ‘tests’ the waters of our couples 12 years ago (Seriously, my puns…SMH). Our scooby gang at HQ finds out a little more in the present. And Steve and Clint get a lot of talking in with some new reveals…And then a surprising new scene with a surprise ‘virtual cameo’ at the end. 
> 
> Enjoy the chapter and image board below!

Memories & Reality

I do not own any of this or any part of Marvel or the MCU

Chapter 18 – Drive

* * *

**Present Day –** FBI HQ –

“God, my eyes hurt.  Who’s turn is it for coffee refills?”

“What?  Are we keeping you up past your bedtime, Stark?” Sam joked.  “Hardly, but I can’t say looking at sheets of numbers is as thrilling as it sounds…I need to move around and search for something for a while.  I’m going to do some digging in the DOD database.  Brucie, move over.  I’m joining you.”

Tony plugged in a laptop and waited for it to turn on, “Hey Bruce, how are you and Betty doing?”

Bruce looked up from his glasses, “Uh.  We’re fine, Tony.  Betty’s good.” 

“That’s good…Really good.  You think she knows anything about Secretary Ross?”

Bruce sighed, “Come on Tony.  You know she’s still estranged from her father.  They haven’t spoken in years.  They might as well be strangers.  So, don’t even think about having me ask her do _anything_ with this situation.  She just wouldn’t be any help at all.”

Tony nodded, “Alright.  I was just curious.  Hey, maybe when things…settle down a little, the four of us can go out again.  That was nice when we did it a few years back.”

They had both met their now, significant others, a long time ago, way before Natasha and Loki ever left the FBI.  But both Tony and Bruce took years of beating around the bush, to finally find themselves in actual relationships with Pepper Potts and Betty Ross. 

Tony and Pepper finally started dating when he first joined the CIA, but were on a break for a long time.  According to Pepper, ‘Tony had to figure a lot of stuff out.’  She’d given him another chance a couple years ago, and they’d been going strong ever since. 

After Bucky and Wanda’s wedding, Bruce finally asked out Betty.  If you asked him, he would tell you he saw how happy his friends were that day, and it had given him the courage he needed.  He and Betty were married at the courthouse, and had a very small reception with his FBI family and a few of her University friends three years ago. 

Bruce meant what he told Tony.  Betty didn’t have any contact with her father.  And Tony did drop it.  He really only brought it up because he was impatient and hated waiting, even if it was only for a couple minutes while his computer loaded. 

Stark’s distracted mind was saved by the bell though.  His computer finished booting, and he cracked his knuckles before he got into the Department of Defense’s database, “Alright…let’s see if there’s any suspicious defense contracts with good ol’ Mother Russia that I can sniff out.”

Bucky was with Sam, trying to track the mystery man from the photo’s movements over the last several years, when he heard his wife.  

“Jackpot!” Wanda smacked her hand on the table. 

“What’d you find?” Bucky came and stood behind her, but they were interrupted as Thor, Maria, and Rhodey came into the lab, looking very discouraged.

“Well, our efforts were valiant, but unfortunately we found nothing of value,” Thor said. 

Everyone looked at the trio for a little clarification before Maria bluntly added, “We all struck out is what he’s saying.  We didn’t find anything else on the CIA, Homeland, or NSA…basically it confirms the DOD and the State Department are the two biggest concerns right now.”

Wanda and Loki didn’t even hear them come in as Wanda’s voice echoed through the room, “No Loki, adjust those parameters… _then_ limit the tracking to these IP addresses only…yes, that’s what I thought.”  She paused and looked at the room, clearly having the attention of the room as she spoke again, “I think some of our suspected Poseidon operatives in the State Department were using their own server to try and avoid detection.”

Silence.

“Yeah, Wanda…you’re going to have to speak in normal human terms for your husband to understand,” Sam joked.  Bucky rolled his eyes but shrugged his shoulder at his wife.  Sam wasn’t that far off from the truth. 

Loki smirked, “Think of it this way.  It’s like having a secret, sex room in your house.  The room uses the same foundation and resources as all the other rooms, but it’s hidden from the public and most people in your life.  And it’s where you can succumb to the depths of human depravity.”

Sam groaned, “A panic room.  A man cave.  A private bathroom…any of those examples would have worked Loki…I take it back… _Don’t_ explain it in human terms.”

Wanda jumped back in, “Loki.  Quiet…What he’s _trying_ to say is that some, or maybe even all of the operatives who’ve infiltrated the State Department, are trying to keep their information secure by using a separate server.  It might have worked too, if we didn’t have an idea of who to focus on…but we do have an idea thanks to the pictures from James, Tony, and Sam.  Which helped Loki when he sent the phishing virus through his email.”

“I thought Fury said only send the email to our four bosses?” Tony asked. 

Loki laughed a little, “Yes…Because I listen _so_ _well_.  I did send it to those four, and they’re all clean as a whistle.  They reported the email as spam to IT right away, like the good schoolboys they are.  Congrats, your bosses at the FBI, CIA, Homeland, and NSA all seem to be legitimate.  But since time is of the essence, and because I had a hunch that your mystery man would open up an email from Mother Russia right away, I sent him one too.”

Fury’s voice broke through the noise, “Good work on the emails to the four Directors.”  Silence filled the room again as everyone looked at the Assistant Director staring at his newest asset and Wanda.

“Well, I’m standing here, so you might as well tell me what you did.  Loki…Maximoff, how do you know this guy won’t become suspicious?”

“Do you want to tell him, Wanda?  You thought of it.”

“Well, I thought since we know who he is, let’s hit him at home, right?  So, we tracked his IP address at his house, and Loki figured out some of the more…scandalous and salacious websites that he’s visited.”

“Oh, good god, girl…He likes to pay women to fuck him…and he pays _a lot_ of money.  Wanda’s being too kind for a sleaze like him.  And I say that, as someone who knows the world of sleaze all too well.  But this guy’s search history at his house, looks like the porn industry’s greatest hits.  It helped though…We realized he’s got a kink for Russian women.  Go figure,” Loki said.

Wanda shooed him off, “So…Loki mirrored a Russian porn site, that would re-route him to the actual website, so he didn’t become suspicious.  And Loki used a simple phishing virus in the email sent to him…sometimes the simplest solutions work.”

Sam muttered under his breath to Bucky, “That’s hardly simple,” as Thor’s laughter filled the air, “You sent Secretary Ross a Russian porn email that had a virus?  Excellent!”  Everyone looked at him like he was crazy, but Rhodey and Maria had the same expression on their faces.

“Why would you think Ross got the email?” Fury asked.

Rhodey answered, “I mean, you were speaking to him on the phone, Fury.  It was shocking to us too…Secretary Ross was the man in the photos, watching Natasha and Clint, and the one in the background of your wedding photo, Bucky.  Back in my military days, I have to say…when Ross was still just General Ross, he made a real fine asshole then…maybe it’s not so shocking.”

“Rhodey, Ross wasn’t the person at our wedding.  He doesn’t match who the figure looks like in the State Department photo,” Bucky answered.  Thor, Maria, and Rhodey looked totally confused now.  There was some apparent miscommunication…stemming from Tony’s text to Maria.

Maria pulled out her phone, “Tony, your text said, ‘Don’t trust / talk to ANYONE.  State Department bad…Worried about Fury’s mtg w Ross.’  What did you think we would conclude from that?” 

Maria showed Wanda her phone as Wanda looked at Stark, “Tony, how is that text actually telling them anything?”

He rolled his eyes, “What?  Fury said don’t trust anyone.  I passed the message along, and then we got caught up in our work.”  Bucky talked over Stark, “Well it doesn’t matter.  Because Ross isn’t who was watching Natasha and Clint.”

“Well, who was it then?” Maria and Rhodey asked at the same time.

Bucky sighed, grabbing the staff picture to show to them, “It’s Ross’s Deputy Assistant Secretary…Jasper Sitwell.  His bald-ass head is what made me positive it was the same guy in each photo.  And I’d bet my life on the fact that it was his State Department vehicle in the other photo, taken at the same time and location of Natasha’s picture, two years ago.” 

Fury spoke up, “I agree with Barnes.  Sitwell is more than likely working for, or with the Russians, under the guise of the U.S. government.”

Sam groaned, “That asshole even looks like a rat…Fury, did you learn anything from Ross?”

“No.  My verdict is still out on him.  I deflected all of his questions for now.  He knows there’s a task-force because the Director of the CIA and my boss gave him an update earlier today.  They told him it was formed to bring Loki into custody…he’s buying it for now.”

“Yeah, well.  Rhodey wasn’t wrong.  Ross can be a real son of a bitch,” Maria said. 

Fury spoke over her, “That may be.  But just because someone’s an asshole, doesn’t mean they’re traitors to this country.  We need to tread carefully.  Find more evidence.  Figure out for sure, who else is involved besides Sitwell…my gut is telling me Ross isn’t.  But…my gut has been wrong before.”

Fury looked at the entire room, as they were all working together once again.  His instincts were more often than not, spot on.  It’s what made him an excellent Assistant Director of the FBI.  Sure, there were mistakes, especially with Natasha and Loki.  And they’d all suffered dire consequences from those mistakes.  But watching the team back in action and seeing the drive they had…well, it made him feel like things were clicking.

With a dry sarcasm that only he could pull off, Fury said, “Maximoff, Thor’s excitement about Secretary of State Ross having access to Russian pornography got us side-tracked…why don’t you finish what you were saying – what’d you and Loki find?”

Wanda cleared her throat, “Well, the phishing virus got us into Sitwell’s home computer, which connects with the server at the State Department…the ‘sex room server’ as Loki would say.”

Loki let out a loud laugh as she continued, “We found out where he’s hiding some of his money.  Assuming he’s getting paid off by Russians, he would need an off-shore account to launder the funds.  We found a name on his home computer’s information – The Lemurian Star Holding Company.”

Loki added, “Follow the stink of money, and you’ll find what’s rotting at the core.  We should hopefully be able to track other individuals or groups using the Lemurian Star.”

It was another breadcrumb that could help lead to something bigger.  That was the hope anyway. 

But they made no mistake about it - what Loki and Wanda just found was _huge_.  The task-force had more evidence now, indicating that Jasper Sitwell was an operative.  And they had his bank information as well as the Lemurian Star’s name, which could hopefully lead them to more involved parties. 

Follow the money… 

The lead helped the group find a new sense of energy, which was needed at the late hour. 

Fury never thought he’d see this team working together again, especially with the drive and determination they were displaying.  Turns out, his instincts were wrong again, and this time, he was more than okay with it. 

* * *

**_12 Years Ago –_ **

_“James, you stay away from me right now!”_

_Wanda’s voice rang through the group of friends as she physically parted the way between them.  They all watched her storm through as Bucky tried to follow her, “Aw come on, Wanda.  Enough is enough.  Can we please just talk?  Look, I’m…I’m really sorry!”_

_Bucky tried to follow, but Natasha stepped in front of him, “Not so fast there, Barnes.  You need to let her cool off.”_

_“Natasha, I’m going to tell you the same thing you told me at the beginning of all of this…stop it…and quit ordering people around.”_

_That wasn’t Bucky’s voice.  It was Steve’s._

_Natasha turned defensively toward Steve, covered in dirt and sweat and filth as she narrowed her eyes at him, “Are you actually ordering me, to stop giving orders, Rogers?”_

_She took a step closer to him, placing her hands on her hips as she jutted her chin up at him in defiance.  “I got news for you.  This isn’t the Army.  You’re not my Captain.  We’re on equal ground here.  So maybe I should tell you again, the same thing I told your caveman of a brother.  Or better yet, I’ll just repeat your own demand… **You** quit ordering people around.”_

_The tension was already high from the events of the day…and from the week.  The rest of their friends scattered, knowing there was a collision that’d been brewing, along the course of the last five days.  And no one wanted to be there for the fallout, because it wasn’t going to end well between the brothers, and Natasha and Wanda._

_Thor, Rhodey, and Maria were groaning from their aching bodies, talking about how they were going to take the longest of hot showers before they met at the campfire that night.  Loki and Bruce were walking just as slowly as everyone else, talking about how they couldn’t wait to get back in front of a computer where they were more comfortable._

_“I uh…I gotta go call my mom.”  Sam said as Tony joked, “Yeah, Wilson.  I gotta go call your mom too.”  The tension was a result, among other things, from an incredibly demanding day and an even more grueling week.  Sam and Tony looked at everyone else leaving, and then back at the four of their friends, not wanting to be around their pending fight at all.  So, they scrammed and caught up with everyone else._

_Wanda was pacing, off in the distance.  Bucky knew that if he tried to go after her right now, Natasha would probably tackle him to the ground.  And Steve…well Steve was pretty much ready to throw Natasha over his shoulders to end this stupid bullshit._

_They would soon look back at this moment right now and laugh.  But the resolution hadn’t come yet, and right now, it was no laughing matter._

* * *

_It all started on Monday, four days ago…right after the weekend where Wanda and Natasha met Sarah Rogers._

_Nick Fury had warned the trainees that the last seven weeks of training was going to, ‘Kick the shit’ out of them.  He **warned** them.  What he didn’t warn them about, was that his definition of kicking the shit out of someone was vastly different from what most of the trainees were used to.  _

_This was the week of their final driving tests.  Everyone at Quantico had been working on their vehicular driving skills over their first three months, but this week would be the first line of demarcation, since the initial physical fitness testing at the beginning of training.  The driving test was one of others to come, that would help separate who could work in the field for the FBI from those who couldn’t._

_Not everyone would make it through to next week._

_Melinda May had Fury call a 4:30 am meeting that Monday morning.  All the instructors worked together this week to put the trainees through hell.  And Melinda wanted to put them all through three hours of actual hell before their day started._

_Fury put it simply to the class as he started speaking at exactly 4:30 am._

_“Imagine that you’re in the city, chasing a perp.  And another vehicle comes out of nowhere, slamming into the side of your car.  Then imagine another vehicle boxes you in on the other side.  You’ve lost the criminal you were chasing after, and all of a sudden, you’re the target.  But it’s not just you.  It’s your partner’s life on the line too, and maybe your team who’s sitting in the backseat.  Or maybe, for some of you, it’s a person that you love.”_

_Fury looked directly at Steve and Natasha, then at Wanda and Bucky, and then at several other couples that had formed in the entire class of trainees.  It was a natural thing, that pairing off would happen in a larger group of people.  It was human nature, but that’s what was making Fury’s point so much more poignant._

_“Now, imagine that your nerves freeze up, because you’re not a natural under pressure, or because you haven’t crafted your driving skills well enough to push past your weaknesses.  Or to enhance your strengths…to make yourself better, and as a result, pushing those around you to be better too.  Imagine all of that…So, when you freeze, it’s already too late.  The criminals in the other vehicles pull out their guns and shoot, without hesitating.”_

_The room filled with silence.  It was 4:45 in the morning, and Fury was throwing them in the deep end._

_“You’re dead…It’s that simple.  All because you couldn’t handle the pressure.  All because you froze.  All because you didn’t listen to your instructors at Quantico, and you didn’t pass your goddamn driving tests here.”_

_Fury was about to let May take over but he stopped and added, “I am going to be personally analyzing your final driving exercises on Friday at TEVOC.”_

_“Shit.”_

_The word was heard under muttered breaths through the crowd.  It’s not that the tests would have been easy without Fury.  It was just that they would be much more difficult **with** him.  _

_TEVOC stood for Tactical Emergency Vehicle Operations Center.  The center was right by Quantico, within walking and jogging distance.  It was an open area with an intricate road track and an off-road course where trainees learned to handle pursuits, tailing, maneuvers in dangerous situations, and improvisational driving tactics._

_In short it was to make sure the trainees didn’t lose their shit, or get themselves or other people in the vehicle with them, killed.  If they were going to be FBI Agents, they needed to be able to handle the wheel under immense pressure._

_“You can all close your mouths now, and open both of your eyes.  Because you’ll need them…Good luck this week.  You’re gonna need that too.  Instructor May…they’re all yours.”_

_Fury walked off and May stood with a smug expression on her face, and with her hands on her hips, grinning widely.  Before she made them feel every second of their three-hour workout, she said, “Before any of you think that this will be the only punishing day this week, think again.  I want your asses on the mats every morning by 4:45 am.  Every.  Morning.  If you’re late by one second, you can go ahead and skip the driving test on Friday.”_

_She paused before adding, “And don’t think your regular training and academic work will lessen this week either.  It won’t, so you’ll need to spend your evenings studying and doing more work because you’ll be at TEVOC during the day.”_

_Fury and the Instructors’ goal was simple.  They would drain them, tire them out, and break them down, making the driving exercises that much more difficult._

* * *

_So, day one of the week already had all of the trainees aching from sore muscles by 8:30 am, when they showed up at TEVOC.  The trainees had been working on their skills in small groups and individually up to this point, but this week was the first time they displayed their abilities in front of each other._

_By the end of day one, Steve, Thor, Rhodey, Maria, and Tony were clearly the strongest in field.  That’s what the others in their small group could tell at least._

_Natasha, Sam, Bucky, and Bruce were in the next category.  Steve was surprised to find out that Natasha wasn’t actually ‘excellent’ at something.  She was just so damn smart and talented in every area here.  “Close your mouth, Rogers.  Driving wasn’t as emphasized in my training growing up.  Don’t worry though, I’ll be kicking your ass by the end of the week.”_

_Everything was still okay.  She was joking normally with him._

_Bruce was another surprise, but he shrugged his shoulders when Tony said, “Brucie, you were pretty good out there,” before Banner answered, “I don’t know what to say, Tony.  I think it’s just because I stay calm under pressure.  I still have a lot to improve on though.”  Bruce over performed and Natasha under-performed from the perspective of everyone’s expectations.  Perspective made all the difference because Bruce was feeling good.  Natasha, wasn’t._

_And that left Loki and Wanda.  They were the weakest links of the group, and it was by **a lot**.  Loki’s weaknesses came from him being dramatic in the vehicle, getting distracted while driving, and not really taking the exercises seriously.  By the end of the first day though, he knew he had a lot of work to do._

_Wanda on the other hand…it was odd.  She was calm like Bruce, smart like Natasha, and read people and her surroundings better than even Steve at times.  But to be frank, in the area of driving under pressure, she sucked.  It was harsh, but everyone was thinking it in some way shape or form._

_Melinda May and Fury weren’t kidding that morning when they said it would be a hell of a week.  They were brutally pushed by May from 5:00 – 8:30 am.  They had 20 minutes to shower, grab a piece of fruit or roll and be outside, to make their way over to TEVOC, where they stayed until 3 pm, with only a granola bar and water for a five-minute lunch.  From there, they went to the shooting range and had target practice until 4:30 pm.  And they still had to work on their assignments in the classrooms._

_Wanda’s embarrassment from her poor driving abilities, had only festered and gnawed at her, twisting around in her stomach for most of the day.  It was well into the evening, after a crappy supper and almost three hours of studying for an early exam tomorrow on Criminology Theory.  It sounded about as fun as the insane workout this morning did._

_Like everyone else, Wanda was sore and extremely tired.  It was 7:30 pm when she snapped at Bucky the first time._

_“Hey babe, I got an idea.  How about we go and get some rental cars tonight and each night this week, and I’ll help you out.”_

_Steve and Natasha were walking silently back to the dorms along with them, dreaming of a long hot shower, some actual food, and bed as they heard Barnes speak.  Bucky didn’t mean anything by it.  He **really** was trying to help.  But he was worried about Wanda passing in front of Fury on Friday.  And his tone of voice came off as a little condescending toward his girlfriend.  _

_It was just enough._

_Bucky’s tone, mixed with her very clear weakness, her embarrassment from feeling lesser than everyone else.  Their aching bodies, from May’s relentless workout.  And their swamps of brains, from six hours of Fury’s adrenaline-filled driving exercises, that included driving around explosions, being rammed by other instructors, and having to perfect manual driving._

_It was just enough…to push her over the edge at the moment._

_“Why are you automatically thinking I need help, James?”_

_Natasha quirked her eyebrow at Steve.  She could hear where this was going already.  Bucky, being as clueless as he could be sometimes, spoke without really hearing what Wanda was telling him…to back off right now.  She was too tired and sensitive and embarrassed to deal with any of it._

_“It’ll be great, Wanda.  We can spend some time driving around the city and countryside, and I’ll help you improve in all the areas you need.”_

_Natasha winced at Bucky’s words.  But she was staying out of it as Wanda lifted her hands and raised her voice in annoyance, “Oh, so now it’s ‘ **all** the areas,’ I need?  Let me ask you James, just how bad do you think I was today?”_

_Poor Bucky.  He had no idea the hole he was digging…or that Wanda was digging for him.  She was taking her frustrations, her tiredness, and her worry out on him, and apparently Natasha was the only one realizing it right now.  Because she looked over at her own boyfriend, and saw no awareness on his face of what was actually going on.  What she did see, was his white knight syndrome kicking into gear, with how he was looking nervously at his brother and Wanda._

_Bucky was stammering, hearing Wanda’s sharp tone, but not really hearing what she was telling him, “I mean.  I was just thinking…Friday is only four days away.  That only leaves three more actual days at TEVOC.  So, I figured we should definitely use all four nights…You’ll need them…We’ll need them to make sure you’re good enough to pass on Friday.”_

_Natasha let out a slow breath and shook her head.  Wanda was tired and worried and overly sensitive…and Bucky was so far in that hole right now he probably couldn’t see the moon that was peeking out of the sky now._

_Wanda stepped towards Bucky, “Let me get this straight, James.  Not only are you telling me I need help, but I need help in **all** areas of driving.  And what you’re really saying, is that even if you work with me every night this week, by going and renting some cars…Every night!  You’re telling me, you really don’t think I’ll be good enough to pass.”_

_Another sigh from Natasha.  But Steve…god she loved him, but he was as thick in the skull as his brother sometimes.  Sarah Rogers raised two wonderful men.  The **absolute** best men.  But they still had their flaws.  And sometimes, Steve’s good nature…his wanting to help people had a downside.  Sometimes, it just wasn’t needed.  Sometimes he couldn’t get out of his own way from his own good will.  This was definitely one of those times._

_“Hey Wanda.”  Steve’s voice cut through Bucky and Wanda’s conversation as Natasha tried to stop him, “Steve, don’t.”_

_Steve looked back at Natasha, clearly clueless, and continued, “It’s no problem, Nat…seriously.  I got the perfect solution.  I know we’re all tired, Wanda.  But I think Bucky’s idea is great.  I mean, how about the four of us do it together every night this week.  I mean, I can help Nat because she needs it too.  Bucky can help you.  And if either of us get to be too much, then we can switch.  And then I’ll help you, and Bucky can work with Nat.”_

_No he did not._

_Natasha narrowed her eyes at him.  She knew he was trying to help the situation, but she was mildly irritated that he couldn’t just let Bucky and Wanda figure it out for themselves.  That was Steve and his Army Captain, black and white, oh so good mentality.  She loved him so damn much because of all those things, but right now she was tired and aching too, and maybe just a little sensitive herself._

_No…she was **pissed** that she wasn’t better at driving.  And she was even **more** pissed, that Steve brought her into this whole rescue operation of his.  So, it wasn’t on the same level at all as Wanda, because Wanda really did need the help.  But Natasha 100 percent understood why Wanda was so annoyed right now.  _

_Which is what led Natasha to go stand by Wanda and cross her arms, “Excuse me, Rogers.  But are you really being as obtuse as your brother right now?  Bucky, obtuse means thickheaded…Thickheaded means you’re being an idiot.”_

_If Tony or Loki were here, they would have laughed at the remark, but they weren’t.  Her words were only met with two surprised men staring back at her._

_It was a little mean, but this argument between them was coming from a place of being drained and stressed, and Natasha and Steve’s extreme competitiveness was thrown into the mix now…And that did not help at all.  And yeah, they were concerned about Wanda passing on Friday, but there was something underneath it all that hadn’t come to the surface yet…that hadn’t been identified yet._

_Right now, at the end of this particular Monday, everyone was feeling a lot more pressure.  Because it meant there was less than seven weeks left, and that reminder from Fury this morning started a mental clock, ticking away in all of their heads._

_Worries of passing final tests, surviving the final seven weeks, worrying about not succeeding at becoming an FBI Agent…at not being able to graduate.  It all loomed over everyone’s head much more than it had a day ago.  Fury designed it that way with the extremely demanding day.  He did this with every class.  They all needed to be thinking about the future and realizing this wasn’t summer camp._

_More importantly, the trainees were worried what would happen if they **did** pass and graduate…They worried about where they would be stationed, and if they would be split up from each other…or if they didn’t get stationed in a place they wanted.  _

_So, yeah…Natasha’s joke was a little below the belt.  But that didn’t stop Wanda from snickering, which caused Bucky to stare, looking more shocked now.  He was suddenly brought up to speed to the fact that he was in a deep trench.  And his brother would soon be joining him._

_Natasha went on, “I know you’re just trying to help, Steve.  But are you saying that you think I’m so desperately in need of help, that you’re throwing yourself and me into Bucky and Wanda’s argument?”_

_Steve looked at Natasha, then at Wanda, and then at Bucky.  “What?  No, Nat.  I…Come on, I know you’re tired, but that’s no reason to be unreasonable like Wanda’s being.”_

_Open mouth.  Insert foot.  It slipped out._

_The four of them were young enough to say stupid things like this.  Even though Bucky and Wanda hadn’t admitted it to each other yet, they were all blissfully in love.  So much, that they kind of thought their relationship bubbles were impenetrable at times, even from each other.  But Steve still said a word like ‘unreasonable,’ even when emotions were running high on worn-out bodies._

_Natasha and Wanda both took a step forward towards Bucky and Steve as Natasha looked a little harsher at her boyfriend, “Oh, Wanda.  Did you hear that?  Not only do we need help.  But we’re **tired** …and we’re being unreasonable.”_

_Steve groaned, “Come on, Nat…that’s not what I…”_

_Wanda cut him off, “Yeah, Natasha.  I heard everything.  We’re just two, tired and emotional, poor and helpless, ladies that need their big and strong boyfriends to come to the rescue, to help us with our driving.”_

_Natasha smirked._

_Her stubborn and competitive side was stoked, and she was in the thick of it now.  Steve had pulled her into this mess.  But she wasn’t so far in, that she couldn’t appreciate the fact that it took a lot to get Wanda to be this feisty.  She arched her eyebrow again, “You know what, Wanda.  I have a better idea.  How about **you and I** go and rent a vehicle?  We can improve on our own.”_

_Steve laughed from disbelief, “Natasha, you’re being **ridiculous**.  Come on, let’s go inside, shower up, and then we can talk about this again after our heads are a little clearer, and we’re not all wanting to cry from our bodies aching.”_

_God bless him.  He was trying to turn this around, but he really shouldn’t have used the word ridiculous to do it.  Really, she was being ridiculous, but being called out on it, right at that moment, wasn’t going to solve anything._

_It’s hard to see the forest, when you’re in the thick of the trees…or something like that._

_Natasha stepped close enough to Steve, that their faces were only an inch apart.  That’s where she first felt it.  The tension and pull from their fight, battling with the faint craving behind each of their eyes, but she ignored it.  “And you’re being a stubborn ass that just called his girlfriend unreasonable and ridiculous.  The only thing ridiculous was any hope that you thought you were going to get laid tonight…Come on Wanda.  Let’s go get ready to rent a car.  We’ll ask Loki to come too.  It’ll be fun…see you around boys.”_

_Wanda and Bucky had fooled around quite a bit, but they hadn’t had sex yet.  But that fact didn’t stop Wanda from saying, “Yeah James…you’re on your own tonight too.”  And they walked off to find Loki to rent a car, leaving Steve and Bucky deep in the gutter, absolutely dumbfounded as to how they ended up there._

* * *

_That was how it started.  That was Monday._

_Spending the night apart didn’t help.  On the contrary, their feelings only brewed all evening long, aggravating that scratch they made last night.  Loki was a pot-stirrer and loved the drama, so of course he was going to egg the women on, “Oh this is incredibly fun.  You two are having your first fights with the Brooklyn Boys.  I’m going to work my ass of this week at driving, just so I can stick around at training to see the two of you kiss and make-up with those two.”_

_By Tuesday, Instructor May had made them box, and lift weights, and do plyometric drills, until they couldn’t feel their feet anymore.  They took their exam right afterwards on Criminology Theory, completed another six hours at TEVOC, and went right back to target practice with their firearms._

_Coulson roasted them all for being off with their shots, except for Natasha and Steve and Bucky.  They relied heavily on their military training, and were still on their game with weapons.  Natasha didn’t say anything to Steve after she hit her marks, all square in the head with her gun.  She just stared at him and walked off, swaying her hips a little harder.  And Steve stared right back…directly at those swaying hips, and he knew he was already miserable from how much he missed her from last night._

_Natasha had worked with Loki and Wanda on Monday night.  And Tuesday showed the results.  They were better with their manual driving and tailing other cars, but Wanda was still getting easily flustered with the pressure._

_And Natasha had spent so much time helping them last night, that she didn’t really get to work on improving her own skills, so she decided to bring in an Ace for Tuesday night.  She asked Tony to help the three of them out.  He was actually incredible in all areas of driving.  Growing up around the extremely wealthy, he’d spent a lot of time around every type of vehicle - fancy, expensive, manual, race cars…you name it, he knew it.  And one of his favorite hobbies was deconstructing and building them back up with his friend, Happy Hogan._

_This little competition or fight…or whatever it was between the two couples, well…just like Loki, Tony **loved** it at first.  _

_First, he loved the acknowledgement that Tony Stark was as good at something as Steve Rogers.  Second, he was a bit of a pot-stirrer too.  The Brooklyn Boys, as Loki called them, were just so perfect in so many ways, so Tony didn’t have a problem admitting to himself that he enjoyed watching them squirm at the moment._

_“Come on, Nat…I don’t understand.  You’re asking Stark for help.  The same help that me and Bucky were trying to offer.  I missed you last night…can we just go up to your room to make up for it?”_

_When he first started talking, Natasha actually felt her defenses retreat a little.  His perfect blue eyes, his bulging biceps, his sweaty brow.  His sculpted jaw…and those goddamn plump lips that she wanted to feel on her again.  Yeah, Steve wasn’t the only one noticing the absence from each other._

_But there was an itch in her head that she couldn’t shake, so she leaned into her exhaustion, and her competitiveness and mentally scratched at it, “First you tell me I desperately need help, and now you’re willing to see me not improve, just so we can have sex?”_

_Steve sighed, “Natasha, you’re twisting everything around right now.  I’m drained and sore, and so are you.  I could see it in your body all day…But I’ll work with you all night if that’s what you want…I just don’t get why you asked Tony.”_

_Tony overheard the last part, and was standing outside with Wanda and Loki, “Well Rogers, you may have been a hero in the army, and you might be the stud in all the other areas here…but with driving?  Well, I guess Natasha just knows who can rev her engine the right way.”_

_Loki burst out laughing, but now Steve was all sorts of pissed off, “Stark, stay out of this.”_

_“Can’t Cap.  Your girlfriend pulled me into it.  Plus, I’ve already rented out King George’s Speedway.  It’s a little over an hour away if we leave now.  And, I called in a few favors.  A few professional NASCAR drivers are going to work with us all night and help these three out…so I can’t really stop now.  You know what they say, Rogers.  Go big or go home.”_

_Shit._

_Maybe if Natasha and Steve were left to only their own wits and defenses, this quarrel could have been put to bed on Tuesday._

_But they weren’t left to themselves._

_And now Steve was beyond pissed off, and he felt like crap.  Bucky did too, but he’d already argued with Wanda about it and had stormed off to his room.  He put his hand on Natasha’s shoulder, “Nat, what are you trying to prove by using Stark’s endless pocket book?”_

_Natasha shrugged away, “I’m not using anyone or anything, Steve.  I asked, and he listened.  I can’t help it, if he has money burning a hole in his pocket.  And the only thing I’m trying to prove, is that I’m not ridiculous or unreasonable.”_

_Natasha left with Tony, Loki and Wanda after she threw Steve’s words back in his face from the night before.  Steve blew out a breath.  Running his hands through his hair, he felt even worse than 15 minutes ago.  He couldn’t just sit around right now.  He was going to punch something._

_So, Steve got Maria and Thor to help Bucky, Sam, and Bruce with their driving that night.  If their girlfriends wouldn’t except their help because of a stupid fight…and it was **really** fucking stupid…then, Steve could at least take some time on a Tuesday night to help his friends.  Maybe that would make him feel just a little better._

_Stark took Loki, Wanda, and Natasha to the speedway, and they drove all night, with NASCAR drivers on a shiny speedway and all.  The four of them got back, all hopped up on energy drinks at 3:30 am on Wednesday morning, with only about an hour to spare before Melinda May would be killing them all over again.  First with sprint drills today, and then on the mats for the last hour of their morning._

_Steve and Bucky were waiting outside the dorms as the foursome got out of a fancy SUV that Stark had rented.  They were all laughing.  They were laughing at 3:30 am._

_Stubbornness.  Stupidity.  Youth._

_What a dangerous concoction that had Bucky and Steve feeling absolutely irate at how stupid their girlfriends were being.  At how they were being.  At how this whole thing started.  Irate enough, to go ahead and say something even more stupid to fuel this fire some more._

_“Jesus, Nat.  Where the hell have you been?”  Loki and Stark quickly scurried off, not having to deal with any of the fallout, still laughing.  “Wanda, this is fucking stupid.  I can’t believe you spent all night driving on a racetrack with professional drivers, all because you refused to let me help you.”_

_Natasha and Wanda weren’t laughing anymore._

_Steve stepped closer, “If you were late today, May said you wouldn’t be able to take the test on Friday for Fury.  Do you realize if you weren’t back in an hour, all of your stupid bullshit wouldn’t even matter?  Because you wouldn’t be able to drive on Friday anyway.”_

_“Steve, I can tell time…I’m not a child.  Don’t worry, I’ll kick plenty of ass today **and** on Friday.” _

_“Then stop acting like a goddamn child.”_

_Stubbornness could be a person’s greatest strength, like when you knew you were doing something right, or when you were pushing yourself outside of your limits or comfort zone because you didn’t want to give up.  But being stubborn could also be the twin of being stupid, magnifying a person’s weakness._

_Steve and Natasha, and Bucky and Wanda.  Stubborn meet stupid._

_The whole scenario was like an incessant itch.  Irritating, and making their skin crawl.  And once it was initially scratched, it felt so damn good, but the itch didn’t really go away.  It only worsened.  So, they scratched, and scratched, and **dug**.  They were digging at it now.  And the factors of pressure, time, ability, and being pushed to their limits with tiredness and strength, only assisted with the scratching. _

_What was the result of the Natasha and Wanda’s little escapade through a Tuesday night / Wednesday morning?_

_Well, the result was that the morning was absolute hell…on everyone._

_The four people who were actually fighting, felt like shit because they wanted to make up so badly and admit their faults.  But, they were all tired and short-fused.  Stupid meet Stubborn.  But Tony and Loki were with the women, and Sam was tired too, because he was kept up by a worried Bucky and Steve._

_Instructor May did not let up one bit, “You think you won’t have days in the field where you would give your right eye to crawl back into bed?  You think you won’t have days you can’t stand to be around your team members because of a fight?  Suck it up.”_

_The crabbiness seeped into the rest of the group, causing everyone to run and spar silently with each other for three hours.  The training center was cold and silent except for the heaving breaths and grunts and sighs – all of the sounds of cranky and sweaty trainees._

_May could sense where the source of everything was coming from.  So, she purposefully paired Wanda and Bucky, and Steve and Natasha together that morning.  It was more than evident how much Steve missed Natasha when she had him pinned to the ground and in a choke hold.  He could tell she was feeling it too, but neither one of them relented._

_The worst part?_

_That afternoon, Natasha literally kicked some ass driving.  So did Loki honestly.  And Wanda?  She wasn’t great, but she had vastly improved with her timing, reflexes, and ability to take risks.  Their girlfriends were smiling and rubbing it in, and Bucky and Steve were fucking pissed.  So, a third night was spent away from each other._

_They didn’t go to some flashy speedway on Wednesday.  But Tony did rent some jeeps and took Loki and the women free-wheeling through the mud and dirt in an open field, since it had just rained the day before.  They worked on using emergency brakes to their advantage, knowing when to turn right and left when weather played as a factor, and the basics in an off-road chase._

_Thursday rolled around.  Rinse.  Wash.  Repeat.  And round and round they went, digging and scratching._

_Only Tony and Loki officially backed off their encouragement of this little squabble that had morphed into something a little more drawn out and serious than they had initially thought…Of course they backed off…they had their fun, and now it was getting awkward._

_Tony mimicked washing his hands before he skirted off, “My work is done here.  There comes a time when the apprentice must become the master.”  He walked over to Bucky and Steve and said, “If you two knew what was good for you, you’d forget this whole stupid week.  I was just having fun, and really was trying to help Maximoff improve enough to be able to pass tomorrow.  Go…kiss their feet…say whatever you need to, to make-up.  You’ll thank me later.”_

_Bucky glared at Tony as he backed away.  But Steve was just staring at Natasha.  She was stretching right in front of him after May was finished with them that Thursday morning.  She was driving him crazy._

_Loki did the same as Stark, and tried to encourage the women to give it a rest._

_Natasha peeked between her legs as she was bending over and touching her toes, and caught Steve’s eyes.  Even though they were pissed at each other, and had refused to apologize, Natasha could tell by the look Steve had, that he was missing her as much as she missed him._

_Loki’s voice broke her train of thought, “Natasha, I think you and Wanda are suffering just as much as those poor brothers.  If I were you, I’d go over to his room tonight, say you’re sorry, and then have the best apology, angst-filled sex of your lives.  You won’t regret it.  You two will fuck like there’s no tomorrow.  And it will only help get your minds off of the **actual** test tomorrow.”_

_Wanda blushed as Loki switched his attention to her, “Oh, don’t tell me you and Barnes haven’t done the nasty yet, Wanda.”_

_“Loki!”  Natasha couldn’t help but grin at Wanda’s shriek._

_“Better idea then, I’ll distract Sam tonight.  Wanda you go to Barnes’s room.  Natasha, have Steve come to yours.  And the two of you can have make-up sex at the same time with those two brooding boys.  They do give a good brood, but their faces will be permanently wrinkled if you keep it up.”_

_Steve stood up at the same time as Natasha.  They stared at each other, and Natasha thought…she really thought about taking a step forward and going to apologize, but he shook his head at something Bucky said and walked off before she could._

_Natasha sighed, “Better idea, Loki.  How about we actually work tonight for a few more hours.  We all still need it.  I’d really hate for us not to be able to prove we never needed their help.”_

_Loki groaned, “Actually.  I think I’m good, ladies.  I think it was more of an ‘effort versus ability’ thing with me anyway.  I don’t need to be the best at driving, and I’m more than confident that I’ll pass.”_

_Loki walked off but turned around, “You know Romanoff, I hope you realize in the four days of proving you didn’t need help from your boyfriend, you have done nothing **but** get help…from Wanda, Loki, Tony, and yourself.  I know you and Maximoff were pissed at how obliviously condescending those boys were to you.  But, honestly…you know they didn’t mean anything by it.  Just go fuck Rogers.  It will help everything.”  _

_Natasha stood there like a fish, opening and closing her mouth.  Still being exhausted from the week, but missing Steve more.  Loki was right.  But it was Thursday, and Natasha wanted to make sure Wanda had her reflexes and timing down for tomorrow.  So it’d have to wait._

_Coulson smiled at the ladies as they approached him.  He agreed to help them get a few extra hours in at TEVOC that night, so they didn’t have to go and rent another car.  The training went well, but both women slept like shit…just like their boyfriends._

* * *

_Friday morning, May actually took it a little easy on them.  She had them stretch together, spar for only 40 minutes, and then had them go on a three-mile jog.  It was still hard, but she didn’t completely drain them today._

_The night before, Wanda and Natasha had decided that enough was enough.  After the test at TEVOC this afternoon, they were both going to apologize to Bucky and Steve and put this stupid and tiring and long ass week behind them.  All’s well that ends well…right?_

_Bucky gave a tentative wave while stretching and Wanda briefly smiled back.  They weren’t fighting or being stubborn in that exact moment, and it was the best feeling they’d had all week._

_Steve jogged near Natasha during most of their run.  They didn’t say anything, but it felt good to just be in each other’s presence again.  They were so used to feeding off of each other’s energy, so they could both feel the push and drive they naturally gave to each other.   Being by Steve made Natasha feel whole.  Being by Natasha, calmed Steve.  And it reinvigorated both of them, even if it was only for the duration of the run._

_At the end of it, Natasha was drinking a bottle of water, and Steve came over.  She wiped her face off and there was his stare again.  Only she was staring right back.  Natasha licked her lips and Steve swallowed and got even redder in the face before turning around to walk away.  Natasha finally blurted out, “Good luck today.”_

_Steve paused, shook his head and turned around with a smirk.  He was sweating through his tight t-shirt. Natasha got nervous when he didn’t answer back right away, “I mean.  You won’t need it of course.  I just.  I wanted to let you know that I wanted to…you know.  To…Jesus.”_

_She was tongue-tied, thinking about all the places she wanted his tongue on her, and he knew it.  “Cat got your tongue, Romanoff?”  There was a hint of his smug grin, that only she got to see when he was being the tease he was to her…and it was the best she’d felt in four days.  She took a deep breath and started to feel a little more like herself, hearing him joke with her, “Yeah…something like that.  Anyway, I just wanted to say.  Good luck today, Soldier.  I know you won’t need it, but I’ll be pulling for you.”_

_Calm and collected on the outside with him.  But on the inside?  She was absolutely crawling under her skin, wanting to kiss and lick all the sweat off of him.  It felt normal though.  She felt more like herself than she had all week._

_“Yeah, Nat.  I’ll be pulling for you too.  See you there.”_

_So things were set for a make-up.  Easy as pie._

_If only…Fury and his mind games weren’t a factor._

_Damn._

* * *

_It was all set.  Steve and Bucky would partner up.  Wanda and Natasha.  Tony and Rhodey.  Sam and Bruce.  Maria and Thor.  Loki had already asked Coulson if he’d be his driving partner for the day.  Coulson smiled and didn’t say anything.  Loki thought it was odd, but he chalked it off to Coulson being flattered or something._

_It was all set._

_Except…Fury had other plans.  It was like somehow…Fury knew exactly what was going on._

_“Now, I’m sure you’ve all planned and planned about how to make the afternoon best suit your needs.  Well driving under pressure, or while being attacked, or while trying to not lose a criminal you’re tailing, isn’t about your needs.  It’s about protecting this country.  It’s about catching the bad guy.  And the whole point of today is to see how you do, when things don’t go your way.  Anyone can pass a test who’s studied and trained, in ideal settings.  But the real world and the field in the FBI doesn’t work like that.  It’s never ideal.  You have to adjust and adapt…or you die.”_

_Dramatic but honest.  All Nick Fury._

_The entire auditorium of trainees started to become uncomfortable fearing where this was probably going, “Coulson and May will have your actual partners for today. **Not** the ones we told you, you could pick at the beginning of the week.”  Fury and his mind games.  _

_As luck, or the design of Nick Fury’s hand would have it, the pairings were nothing like everyone had planned.  Bruce was on his own.  He was so calm around others, that Fury figured, it’d be most difficult if he had to do it all by himself.  Tony was with Loki.  Fury wanted to see if two egos that big could fit into one vehicle.  Sam was with Maria.  Rhodey was with Thor._

_That left four people.  And they all shut their eyes, knowing exactly what Fury was going to do before Coulson gave them their pairings.  Steve was with Natasha.  Bucky was with Wanda._

* * *

_“Fuck.”_

_It slipped out of Bucky, and he only meant that he knew the day was going to be difficult._

_It had already been such a long and miserable week, and like the women, Steve and Bucky had decided one way or another, this whole idiotic misunderstanding of a Cold War between couples, was going to end._

_So, Bucky didn’t mean anything by letting out an f-bomb.  He just didn’t want to go backwards before they’d even had a chance to make up.  But Wanda heard him, and the whole switching partners surprise, threw her for a loop.  She was already extremely nervous, and now started feeling self-conscious, causing her anxiety to shoot through the roof._

_The bottom line was that she was scared she was going to screw up bad enough that she wouldn’t be allowed to continue with field training.  Once Wanda let that fear slip inside her head, which she’d worked tirelessly over the last four days to iron out, she was in a nosedive._

_Bucky was the nearest person to her, she misunderstood what he meant when he cursed, and she let her fear of having to leave him and Quantico get the best of her, “Am I **so** bad, you can’t even stand the thought of being in the same SUV with me, James?”_

_Damn.  They were going backwards, and he didn’t know what to do._

_He let his own mind race and didn’t know what to say, he was worried too.  He was scared to death that she wasn’t going to pass, and somehow his presence was going to make it worse.  And she wouldn’t be allowed to continue here.  And he hadn’t even had a chance to tell her yet…_

_Bucky looked down at the ground and sighed, “Wanda, come on.  I was just surprised.  I’ve been trying to get in a vehicle all damn week with you, so I didn’t mean anything by it.  You’re going to do great.”_

_Wanda blew out a breath too.  She was going to have to dig in, and muster out some nerve and remember everything she’d improved on, all week long.  She could do this.  She was smart as hell and was determined.  She just couldn’t let the situation with Bucky distract her, so she shook her head, “Okay.  Okay, James.  But you gotta let me actually do this on my own and not micromanage me.”_

_Natasha and Steve didn’t say anything.  They were feeling similarly, but for different reasons.  They were both worried about Wanda, of course.  But as far as being paired together, they didn’t have the concern of necessarily impacting one another, to the point that one of them might not be allowed to continue at Quantico.  Steve would 100% pass, and Natasha was confident enough in her initial abilities, before improving this week, that she would surely meet Fury’s standards._

_What **they** were dealing with, was in some ways, even more absurd than Bucky and Wanda.  Steve and Natasha were dealing with their pride, ego, and stubborn will, letting the exhaustion get the best of them this week.  And they had.  They had been miserable going into the fifth day of this ridiculous spat.  _

_It started because Natasha really thought they should stay out of Bucky and Wanda’s argument.  But it had quickly snowballed into their own monster of a situation.  Natasha was dealing with insecurity of not being the best at something, and at Steve and others, clearly being better than her in one area._

_Yes, it was fucking ridiculous.  But she was trained and raised to perfect her ability in language studies, combat training, weapon assembly and handling, shooting, surveillance, and all sorts of other espionage skillsets.  And she had a real problem with admitting the green headed monster within herself, called envy…especially at such a stupid thing.  But this week was beyond demanding – emotionally, physically, mentally, and psychologically._

_Fury knew what he was doing.  He was pushing the trainees to their limits, because that’s what the job would demand – **especially** if they were going to be in the field.  As an agent, they had to figure out a way to push past exhaustion.  To figure out a way to dig deep, and find the drive to finish a mission, to catch the criminal, to outrun someone hunting you down.  _

_Today wasn’t only about their skillset…it was about their mind and their ability to compartmentalize their personal bullshit, putting the mission first when needed.  So yeah, Fury knew what he was doing, along with May and Coulson._

_And Natasha was three months into a relationship with a man she loved more than anything, and she didn’t know how to handle herself right now.  She was so used to doing things on her own, or only with Clint because that’s what her life required of her.  But with Clint, it was a natural family love.  Yes, they’d do anything to protect one another._

_But with Steve, she was a train without it’s track and couldn’t move forward without him.  The angst and guilt and lust from not having what she wanted so desperately over the last four nights made her feel a little lost.  So, she did what she knew how to do, she pushed and argued and fought all week, and she played dirty by getting Stark to help her on Tuesday.  It felt good at the time because she knew it would piss Steve off, and now she was too proud to admit she was wrong._

_There was a reason pride was the deadliest of sins.  It could blind the clearest of vision, and deafen the most open of ears._

_Damn Fury and his mind games – the man knew **exactly** what he was doing, pairing her and Steve together. _

_Steve – he had the skillset down.  He had the training of keeping his cool in the field, from his military days.  That’s why he knew Bucky would be okay today too.  Bucky may not have been as strong as Steve, but he had the same steel nerves from all of the time overseas at war.  It’s part of what would help them both become great FBI field agents._

_Except, in the military, it was him and Buck and their military unit, under Steve’s command.  It was controlled chaos, under orders and structure.  They excelled there.  It’s why they would make such excellent FBI Agents.  And all that was true._

_But…there was a big blaring difference that had been brewing all the while Steve had been at Quantico.  This week exposed that difference and made itself known.  The difference was Natasha.  The difference was, when he was in the military, he could block out worry for his brother at times.  He could momentarily forget, the love he had for his mother, worrying he might not come home and see her again.  Those thoughts were there, but he could focus on the mission at hand, and worry about emotions later._

_Focus.  That was part of the difference.  Steve and Natasha’s connection was **so** **strong**.  It was a one of a kind, sort of attraction that had formed into love, and right now, it was a double-edged sword.  This whole fucking misunderstanding started because of a stupid argument between Wanda and Bucky.  And then Steve intervened, which Natasha didn’t agree with.  _

_And they all fell into the trap that Fury knew he was setting for **all** of his trainees, not just for those who found themselves in a relationship.  They fed into the ache and exhaustion of the week…It was too easy to, and then they snapped at each other. _

_Other trainees had done it with their friends, their family members on the phone, or their instructors at Quantico.  But for these four individuals, it was that much more intense because their feelings for the person they were fighting with, were just as intense as this week._

_Like Bucky, Steve had every intention of putting this whole week behind him after the testing today.  He would make up with Natasha one way or another.  He just had to get through today._

_And it was proving to be more difficult than he had planned.  For Steve, he wasn’t used to feeling distracted or worried about the woman he loved on missions or in fieldwork.  He wasn’t used to not being able to compartmentalize things.  What Steve was failing to recognize, was that was part of Fury’s test too.  This wasn’t just a test about one’s ability.  It was a test about proving your ability through the slough of feelings and emotions…through worry and fear._

_Ever since Steve learned about Natasha’s past, his love had grown by leaps and bounds.  But his worry and fear had grown for her too.  It was always in the back of his mind – especially over the last five or so weeks, since they’d started sleeping together.  He couldn’t stop thinking about her or stop worrying about her._

_And what caused Steve the most worry, was that he couldn’t stop thinking, there was inherently **nothing** he could do about her handlers and the dire and tragic situation she was forced into.  He had to accept that, as impossible as it was for him.  _

_But he could’ve helped her this week.  It was simple.  And she bucked against his attempt on Monday when he thought he was helping a situation with Bucky and Wanda.  And now here he was, four days later, after four long nights without her in his arms.  All, after he’d grown almost addicted to her smell and touch.  It all blended into this huge pile of stress with their fighting and the pounding, their bodies took from the extra training this week._

_Steve could admit it to himself - he was hurt she wouldn’t let him help.  Deep down he knew she was doing it to aggravate him…to prove a point that she could get it done on her own.  And he was all sorts of pissed off when she let Stark help her, knowing she knew it would do exactly that._

_But…it was set.  Even with all the worry and hurt and pettiness from the week, Steve was determined.  Determined to pass, and determined to find her in his arms again tonight._

_Then Fury had to go and pair them together, before any resolution happened.  Steve knew an apology couldn’t happen now.  The anxiety and nerves and anticipation of just wanting this godforsaken week to be over was a pot of water, on high heat.  If anyone tried to delve into those messy feelings right now, the pot was sure to boil over rapidly._

_So here they stood.  Both tense and anxious and thrown for a loop.  Both reeling, because they would be forced to spend the afternoon in the car together._

_Natasha kept peeking at him out of the corner of her eye.  Steve’s eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses, but he wasn’t fooling anyone behind the shades.  Natasha knew he was staring at her too._

_Maybe the forced time together would allow them the chance to hash things out while driving, right?_

_That was as laughable as it sounded._

_No.  Both Steve and Natasha knew this would end with them either yelling at each other or trying to show each other up from their stubborn, stupid competitiveness.  Stubborn meet stupid…meet competitive behavior._

* * *

_What the group of 11 friends didn’t realize, is that Fury, May, and Coulson were watching them all very closely.  Their group in particularly.  By far, they were the strongest agents collectively at Quantico in the class.  Beyond that though, they all worked extraordinarily well together.  They had formed a natural team chemistry that some FBI Agents would take years to form with their teams, and some others, who would become more lone-wolf agents, would never find.  It’s why the three instructors pushed the team as hard as they did._

_“Any predictions today, Fury?  I know we’ll have some out of the entire class that won’t make it through the day, but do you think any of the 11 will fail?”_

_Fury listened to Coulson, but didn’t answer.  May answered for him, “I think Barnes, Maximoff, Rogers, and Romanoff are all at risk.  They’ve been ready to kill each other all week.”_

_Fury grinned, “I wouldn’t get the cart before the horse just yet Melinda.  A long time ago, I remember some similar issues popping up between a certain couple, newly in love at Quantico as trainees.  I distinctly remember you wanting to rip Phil’s throat out at about the same time here because the combination of everything was too much.”_

_Melinda scoffed, but Phil smiled, “We still had a lot to figure out then.  They all do too, but I actually think those four will be fine.  They got the heart and brains, they just need to figure out the emotions…Come on, Melinda.  Where’s the faith?”_

_Fury smiled again, “That’s why you two balance each other out so well.  Phil you give her the heart she needs, and Melinda…you knock him on his ass and make him a little tougher.  You know I see that same sort of combination between Barnes and Maximoff, and Rogers and Romanoff.”_

_May answered, “Well, they have to prove it first.  We’ve all seen lesser and stronger agents not make it through.  They have to figure out a way to deal with the stress, of loving someone you are in life threatening situations with every day, if they’re going to last in the job.”_

_They wiped their smiles off of their faces as Fury finished, “Alright, they’re all getting here.  It’s Showtime.”_

* * *

**Present Day –** Driving

The sigh of relief that Steve allowed himself several minutes ago, had quickly dissipated in the silence of the SUV.  The air was only filled with the hissing sound of the oxygen tank, Natasha’s labored inhales and exhales through the mask, and Steve’s deep breaths as he tried to keep calm. 

Idle hands and idle minds. 

Nothing good usually comes from them in dark times.  And Steve’s idle mind was racing again as he had to sit still now.  Yes, Natasha was safe in his arms, and he wanted to kiss her endlessly, but his thoughts overtook everything while he waited for Clint. 

Steve thought of all the painful memories from when Natasha was almost shot on the warehouse mission, to when she told him goodbye.  And he thought of everything that she had to have been through to cause her to be in this current state.    

Natasha’s tiny frame.  All the power he knew her to have, hidden in her now **dangerously** tiny frame.  He watched and held her like she was a fragile piece of glass, as her chest rose and fell.  Steve’s tears had been falling silently for several minutes since he’d hooked her up to the IV.  Feeling his guilt overtake him, he closed his eyes and softly ran his thumb over her cheek, over an area where there wasn’t a cut or bruise. 

Steve heard the slamming sound of the SUV trunks and peeked over his shoulder.  They were finishing up as he turned his eyes back to her.  In the most important way, finding her alive was like the beginning of a dream that he never thought possible.  But as his eyes travelled again, over her almost broken body, and he could only think of the nightmare both of them have endured over the last several years.  The emotional pain he had gone through, and the clear physical torture she had been subjected to, left a dark and despairing feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

Steve heard Clint and the team’s voices, and pushed those thoughts away, wiping his eyes and sucking a large sniff of air through his nose.  He turned his head again and saw Clint shaking hands and giving a nod to Jessica Jones and the men, as they all got in their vehicles.  They waited for Clint to get into Steve’s SUV, so they could follow them out of here.  A shuddering thought quickly passed through his mind as he thought of the body bags in the back of each of the Mercenaries’ three SUV’s, but it ended quickly.  There simply wasn’t time to process that disturbing chain of thoughts right now.   

Clint opened the opposite side of the backseat and nodded to Steve, “How’s she doing?” 

“Stable, I think…for right now at least.  The IV is hooked in and the pump is working.  But her breathing still isn’t good.  It’s still really strenuous, but the oxygen is helping a little.”  Steve swallowed as his voice cracked a little, “Jesus Clint, look at her.  She looks like she would break in two if she fell to the ground right now.” 

Clint had been on a constant adrenaline high for the last year and a half, searching for his sister.  He had a purpose…a mission.  Get Natasha back, alive.  And that kept his mind focused.  He struggled at night, just like the other tortured souls in front of him did.  Besides the brief encounter and kiss he had with his sister, as Steve carried her back from the cabin, he hadn’t had a chance to start processing anything yet.  Until now. 

Now that she was here in Rogers’s arms, helpless before him, Clint felt himself begin to unravel.  Steve recognized the look on Barton’s face because it’s exactly what Steve was struggling with and feeling. 

Steve watched Clint’s eyes glass over, and he saw all of the guilt, fury, rage, and sorrow coursing through his stare.  He could see it all because it mirrored his own tormenting thoughts.  “I’m sorry Clint.  It’s so easy to get lost in our heads right now, thinking of what she’s been through, but we can’t do that right now.  We have to get her back to HQ.” 

“Yeah.”  Clint said through a shaky voice, nodding in agreement.  He pushed the inevitable breakdown off for now, just like Steve.  Numbing their pain, pushing it away…it might make things worse for them in the future, but they had to do it if they were going to get out of here and back to Headquarters in one piece.  They **had to** , for Natasha.  She needed medical attention urgently.

Just as Clint was about to shut the backdoor so he could get in the driver’s seat and get moving, Natasha coughed, lurching her body to the side toward the front seat.  Steve’s forehead creased with worry as he held onto her, trying to sooth her and rub her back. 

While Steve was rubbing along her spine and over her bra, he paused.  Just like when kids looked at the hidden picture puzzles, trying to figure out what didn’t belong in similar images, Steve’s squinted his eyes.  He caught something that shouldn’t have been there.  Something was different.

He didn’t notice it before because Steve could only see the front of Natasha in the cabin.  And she had been wrapped up in a blanket ever since.  But, as he caught a glimpse of the skin on her back for the first time tonight, he looked at Barton, “Clint, look…”

* * *

Clint and Steve glanced at each other as the ever evolving mystery on Natasha’s back further unraveled. 

Steve had only seen the tattoos and burn marks and scars on Natasha’s back, over the course of the weekend from two years ago.  He had memorized their placement and details and texture.  It had been a source for his sketches during many nights when he couldn’t sleep.  It didn’t matter that he only had a weekend with her then.  Steve knew every detail of her body then.  It was a curse and a blessing.  So he knew, instantly that what he was looking at right now, was different. 

Steve kept the oxygen mask placed against Natasha’s mouth, keeping her turned to the side for the moment.  Clint pushed the additional overhead lighting on, in the SUV, for a better look at her exposed back around her sports bra. 

Recalling all the details on Natasha’s front, Steve took in the similar bruising along her back.  But that wasn’t what caught his attention.  No…what caught both his and Clint’s attention, were her tattoos.  Steve looked at the compass and anchor, and then the hammer and sickle, and trident, and then the two-headed eagle tattoos.  All the same. 

What _was_ different, was the cross section of 14 dark circles that had travelled along her shoulder blades, and down her spine.  Each dark circle had a Russian word etched into each one.  Steve remembered the morning she said goodbye, as she listed each word, and explained that she received them after completing missions.  He remembered feeling so sickened at the notion that her fucking handlers had carved words like treason and traitor and whore in Russian into her skin because of their disgust for her. 

Steve quickly counted them, lifting up her bra as gently as he could.  There were still 14 of them, but they weren’t just dark anymore.  They were completely black.  The Russian words had been blacked out, but there were new words inked inside, in bold and deep, red lettering.  It looked like blood seeping out from the black, with perfect Russian Cyrillic script.   

Clint had similar dark circles on his back, but he didn’t have any words.  He remembered being so angered each time Ivan and Oksana made Natasha get those words tattooed.  They dangled their threats to Steve, to Sarah, to Wanda and Bucky and all of her friends…to Clint, over her each time as she tried to fight them at the beginning, before she finally stopped.

Steve and Clint didn’t even talk.  They knew exactly what word was in each circle before.  Clint had to watch his sister go through it, and Steve had memorized in painstaking detail, every inch of her skin. 

Steve’s fingers moved the strap of her bra as he brushed over the first circular tattoo.  Clint was upright and started reading through the new words in Russian, then English.

  * Наташа – Natasha / used to be Изменник – Traitor (Farthest to the left)
  * Стив - Steve / used to be Солдат – Soldier
  * Родной брат – Brother / used to be Шпион - Spy
  * There was nothing / used to be Измена – Treason (Just on the backside of her heart) There was no new word here. The old word had been scratched out, leaving scar tissue.  It was almost like the word she had replaced ‘Treason’ with, was what was scratched out.  The circle was black, but now there was a shape covering the old word.  A shape that looked like two sideways triangles meeting at the tip.  It almost looked like an hour glass.
  * Уцелевший - Survivor / used to be Шлюха- Whore (Just to the right of her heart)
  * Семья – Family / used to be Епитимья – Penance
  * Навсегда - Forever / used to be Оплата – Payment – (Farthest to the right)
  * Америка - America / used to be Мать Россия – Mother Russia (At the top of her spine just below her neck)
  * Страна - Country / used to be Отец Советский – Father Soviet (Below the triangle symbol)
  * ФБР - FBI / used to be Посейдон – Poseidon (Right in the middle at the cross section)
  * Лояльность – Loyalty / used to be Инфильтрат - Infiltrate
  * Свобода - Freedom / used to be Безопасный – Secure
  * Мстить - Avenge / used to be Уничтожить - Destroy
  * Люблю – Love / used to be Миссия – Mission (The last tattoo on the vertical line, ending on the middle of her back)



Steve and Clint looked up from her back, staring at each other in complete disarray, having more questions than answers. 

More questions.  More mystery.  More darkness. 

Steve’s throat tightened, as his mind filled with ideas and thoughts of what it could all mean…especially the sideways hourglass in red.  Why wasn’t there a word there?  Or better yet, why was there a scar underneath, that looked like a word had been scratched out?

Pulling Natasha gently to her back again, he ran his fingers through her hair and tried to calm his breathing and heartrate.  Clint was feeling the same way.  He let out a large breath of frustration, “I’ll drive while we think, Rogers.  My fucking brain is going to explode.” 

Clint got into the front seat, waved to his team again, and drove out of the campground parking lot. 

* * *

Two minutes into their drive, Steve couldn’t stand the quiet.  The silence was filled with his racing thoughts and panicked feeling in his stomach.

“Clint, do you have a phone that I can use?  I chucked my battery to avoid any GPS tracking when I ran earlier.  I really should let Bucky or Fury or someone know were on our way.”

“Yeah…that’s a negative, Rogers.  My team kept my phone.  Better to be safe than sorry, since Poseidon will be on the hunt soon.  I didn’t want any trace somehow being put on it.  They’re going to get rid of it for me…with the bodies.  I know how to get in touch with them if I need something.  And everyone else…well, everyone else I’d need to get ahold of is in this SUV.” 

Steve winced at his last words.  Even with all the bad blood in their personal history, Steve couldn’t help but feel for Clint Barton in that exact moment.  As hard as Natasha’s life had been, and it had been treacherous and barbaric, and so unjust and unfair…Clint’s was that much harder.  He was older, enduring five years more of everything – beatings, abuse, pain.  And unlike Natasha, Clint never initially bought in to the idea that he was deserving or even wanted something more.  But then he did follow her.  He _did_ buy in to the idea of freedom and their future.  And it failed. 

Massively failed.  And with a crash, something Clint didn’t even know he wanted for most of his life, was gone.  His barely born dream was erased.  And then he lost his one and only tether, anchoring him to a life that he did know – his sister.  Natasha was the only thing good in his life for most of it, and Clint lost her too, just like Steve.  Except Clint knew she was alive, and was being held…and tortured for more than a year and a half.  He’d been searching for her non-stop. 

So to hear Clint realize that his world, and what really mattered, was all tied up in this very vehicle?  Yeah, Steve’s heart went out to him, no matter how much of a rocky history they had.  He was Natasha’s brother, and Steve once thought they’d be family.  He knew Clint felt that way too for a few years.  And now, they found themselves together again, keeping Natasha alive in this small and tiny space. 

Steve sighed.  He knew that he should figure out a way to contact his team, but with no phones, he wasn’t going to think on it now.  They’d be back at headquarters soon enough, and there were much more important matters at the forefront of both men’s minds. 

“Clint, why would Ivan and Oksana replace her tattoos with new words?  New words that are almost the exact opposite of her old Russian brandings?  Natasha told me they gave her, and only her, those Russian words…to remind her of her betrayal to them.  It doesn’t make any sense at all.” 

“I’ve been asking myself the same thing…You’re right, Rogers.  It doesn’t make sense.  It doesn’t make sense, because Ivan and Oksana didn’t do it.  They would rather slit their own throats then have words like America, Freedom, Love and FBI branded onto their soldiers.  They would rather shoot each other than put your name on her back…no offense.”

Steve scoffed, “None taken.”

“No.  This wasn’t them…This has my sister written _all over_ it.  Rogers, they didn’t put the new tattoos on her.  She did it on her own somehow.  I just know it.  I would bet it was towards the end, before she was taken.  And my guess, is that she did it in place of a huge fucking middle finger to Ivan and Oksana.”

Clint’s wasn’t the only one with a brain about to explode.  Steve felt like he was going to have an aneurism at this pace.  The blend of emotions, images, and now new information…and all the questions without answers was almost stifling.  Add in the fact, that Steve was pretty much going on no sleep, with the tossing and turning he’d done the night before.  _And_ add in the fact that both men had been through the ringer over the last 18 months. 

Yeah, their brains were at their max for processing information and emotions, and both Clint and Steve felt like they could burst at the drop of a dime.

Steve exhaled, “I still don’t understand Clint.  Natasha told me two years ago, that you and she had started forming a plan…a vengeance-filled crusade of sorts, to start taking Poseidon down.  That’s when she told me that Poseidon had actually named themselves.  I had mentioned the name to Fury and the team as something to look out for after…I received the pictures.”

There was that suffocating feeling again.  Steve swallowed and held Natasha just a little tighter, trying to sooth the pain.  His pain.  Her pain.  Any of it.  It wasn’t working.

“But I guess Poseidon’s name wasn’t out in the open yet, or even known in the criminal underworld then.  But, Natasha said the two of you actually started planning your vendetta after I saw you both in Russia four years ago.”

“My sister wasn’t lying to you, Rogers.”

Clint was thinking about everything too, but Steve was swimming against a tidal wave of questions.

“Okay…The FBI.  You’re telling me you were the source for Loki and Maria Hill with Homeland, right?”

Clint nodded as Steve rubbed his forehead with his free hand, “Well, the FBI has been cracking down on Russian crime syndicates all over the country in the last year too.  I’m sure Poseidon was involved with some of them.  There was too large of an influx in the number of Russian spies and crimes to be a coincidence.”

“Yeah, that’s all correct.  I feel like we’ve already been over this.  What are you thinking, Steve?”

Steve sighed heavily, “You and Natasha are soldiers and fighters…and you don’t stop until a mission is complete.  I don’t either…but with you and Nat, you’ve lived with this determined mindset your entire lives – ever since the orphanage and training camps.  I saw that same fight and determination in her so many times when we were together.”

Steve had to take a deep breath again because his voice was wavering.

“Clint, why?  Why, after all that time, would Natasha try and sabotage any progress that the two of you made, by putting these words on her back.  You said it yourself…She clearly knew Ivan and Oksana would see them and be provoked?”

Steve had tapped into a reservoir of questions that was spilling over.  He could feel the pressure building as the words were coming out quicker now.

“And what word is that scar and red symbol covering?  The one that looks like a sideways hourglass.  It looks like she got a new word tattooed there, something cut into it, scarred over the word, and then she got that red symbol tattooed over it?  It doesn’t make any goddamn sense.”

Steve’s brow was almost permanently creased at this point, “Then that leave the journal.  You said they found it.  I keep going over this in my head.  Natasha _doesn’t do_ careless mistakes.  Not when she’s focused on a mission.  Not for something as important as what the two of you were working toward.  Clint, what the _hell_ happened to her that would cause her to do all of this?”

Steve groaned in frustration, feeling that headache rushing back.  “Clint, you told me before you’d tell me what you could later on, after we saved Nat.  So, think back…What do you remember from that time?”

Clint’s face mirrored Steve’s.  He was more than agitated as his knee was bouncing with the SUV set on cruise control.  His fingers gripped the steering wheel tightly, “Okay, like Tasha told you.  We made the decision to try and burn our handlers’ operation down four years ago…after Russia.  But it was going to be a slow go of it.  We had already been doing Ivan and Oksana’s bidding, completing every mission and task they wanted for three years, so we had moved up the ranks a little.”

“We knew if we were going to do this, then we’d have to keep completing the missions that we were sent on to avoid suspicion.  So, we did, but we found ways to copy intel that we gathered, free innocent people when we could and send them into hiding, and obtain more information on Poseidon as a whole.  But they are really fucking good and separating and disseminating intel.”

Clint took a drink of water, “On a mission that was going to go sideways real fucking quick, outside of the Ukraine, we ran into Jessica Jones and Luke Cage.  We figured out immediately, they were mercenaries, and they might just be the extra help we needed.  So, they became the Patsy.  They all took the heat of Ivan and Oksana, because it looked like they were the ones screwing up missions and obtaining intel.  It looked like Cage and Jones and company were the ones trying to take down our handler’s operations and impact Poseidon as a whole.”

This was actually clicking with Steve.  It seemed like it was a good plan, keeping the attention off of Natasha and Clint.

“And they _were_ trying to take them down, but we were working with them.  To speed things up, Natasha had the idea to start dropping intel to the American government agencies to hopefully come at Poseidon from multiple angles.”

“What happened?” Steve wasn’t sure if he wanted to actually know.

Clint sighed, “Well.  A plan like what we were doing, probably would have taken over a decade.  Honestly.  Poseidon was so big, and secretive, and embedded in so many goddamn countries’ governments.  And, what we were doing was insane.  It would’ve taken _at least_ a decade, but we wouldn’t have lasted nearly that long.  The danger we were in, leading double missions…slipping intel to Cage and Jones and their team…it was our choice, and I’d do it again, but it put our lives in peril.  And we knew that.”

“And Tasha…she knew she had to see you again.  One last time.  I think she knew she had to say goodbye to you, to try and have the strength to finish what we started.  To have the resolve to burn it down.  That’s what you said happened at that cabin right?  She said goodbye to you two years ago?” 

Steve clenched his throat and looked down at Natasha.  He shut his eyes, but he couldn’t stop a tear from coming out again.  He nodded and let out a shaky breath. 

“Yeah.”

Clint looked over his shoulder, imagining what Steve had to be feeling.  “Yeah.  Anyway, I told you I tailed Natasha that weekend, for protection.  Her and I had a system like that if we ever went off-site alone.  But someone else from Poseidon was tailing her too.  I don’t know who it was, but I’m sure they reported it straight back to Ivan and Oksana.”

“I know you’ve had the _pleasure_ of meeting our lovely handlers.  They are cold and calculating, and would make Stalin proud.  But when it comes to my sister…they got a huge fucking blind spot with how vengeful and emotional they become with her.  The couldn’t stand how talented and gifted she was.  She was a natural and could have been a rising star in the organization, and Ivan and Oksana could’ve ridden her coattails all the way back to their precious _Mother Russia._ But that was only going to work if Natasha actually bought in.  And she never did…It infuriated them to no end.”

This is information Steve knew, from Natasha’s telling.  But in all the years he knew Clint, Steve had never heard it from his point of view.

“Steve, it didn’t just infuriate them.  They became obsessed with making her comply.  She bucked back against them as a child, and as a pre-teen, and as a teenager, but they still had control over her then…And then she left for the Navy.  Up in a puff of smoke, she was gone.  And she had Ivan and Oksana’s hands tied.  They couldn’t make a stink with the U.S. military, because it would draw attention to Poseidon – which was not nearly as developed back then, as it is now.  It didn’t have the name or infrastructure in America then.  I was so damn proud of her at first.  All she’d ever wanted was out.  To be free.  And she’d done it.”

Hearing this all again, from Clint’s point of view was like hearing it for the first time, and re-visiting the pained memory of Natasha opening up to Steve for the first time, all at once. 

“But they were salivating at the mouth to get her back.  She was their ticket home, to prove to the powers that be in Russia, that they had an extraordinary soldier that could help lead the charge to bring Russia into full power again.  And Natasha crapped all over it, so they took it out on me.”  With all their messy history, again Steve could only feel for a man who used to be his friend right now, “Clint, I…I’m really sorry.”

“Nah…Don’t do that, Rogers.  It is what it is.  And you’ve told me that all before.  That’s not why I’m saying it tonight.  They just…they had it out for her.  So they got her back from the military, and eventually got her back from the FBI…and they figured out that she as with you two years ago.  Savage doesn’t begin to describe how unrestrained their anger was toward her, because they knew she was with you.  Just like they knew she’d watched Bucky and Wanda’s wedding and reception five years ago…Although, she was really only there to watch you.”

That made Steve’s head pop up.  “Wait.  What did you just say?”

“Fuck, Rogers.  I thought she might have told you.  It doesn’t really change anything…probably just makes you feel that much worse though.  How fitting for our night, right?  Tasha knew about their wedding.  She watched it from the park, and the reception from another rooftop.  I guess Loki was there too.  When she met up with me late that evening, she was pretty upset.  You can figure out why.”

It was more salt in an open wound.  The knife had twisted deeper.  His heart squeezed a little more in pain, knowing that Natasha had been there watching alone…just like he felt that night…alone.

“Sorry, man.  I didn’t…I guess it’s better that you know.  I’m sure she didn’t purposefully keep it from you.  I think you guys were busy fighting or whatever to even bring it up in Russia and at the Cabin.”

“Yeah.  Or maybe it was just too painful…Don’t worry about it, Clint,” Steve said in a muted tone, staring into the dark, out the window now.         

“Well, Ivan and Oksana had us both interrogated the day after she returned from the cabin.  We both thought Natasha covered her tracks well.  She said she went to the cabin to clear her head for a couple of days.  Somewhere along the line, Ivan and Oksana learned how to put a muzzle over their snarling teeth towards her, because we both thought that they bought it.  And I didn’t think whoever was tailing her actually saw you and her together.” 

“Okay, so what happened after that, between when she left the cabin and when she…was taken? There’s a three-month gap, Clint.”

“We went back to work.  We continued with our plan…all the way until about a week before she was taken.  We were in Kazakhstan, completing what was supposed to be a huge drug and arms sale.  Our handlers orchestrated it.  It was going to bring in a large sum of money that would have sped up Poseidon’s plan of attack.  You know, their whole plan of _Destroy_.”

Steve was about to interrupt, but Clint spoke over him, “Rogers, before you ask…I don’t know what the plan for their attack is.  _Separate and Disseminate_.  It’s how they operate.  Always has been.  They design it so not everyone, except for those right at the top, know everything.  Any key pieces of information on the plan of attack was kept well away from us.  They never fully trusted Natasha after she returned from the FBI.”

Steve saw Clint squeeze his hands so hard around the wheel, that he could see the whites of his knuckles.  “So Natasha and I framed one of the Kazakhstani dealers in the trade.  He was set up as a double-agent, but it was really us and the mercenaries behind the scenes.  But _it worked_...The deal was busted because we leaked information to Interpol.  And Interpol worked with the National Security Committee in Kazakhstan.”

Clint grinned as he recalled the memory, “It’s not like the law enforcement officials in Kazakhstan wanted to necessarily take down bad guys and work with Interpol.  They were just fucking pissed.  Because if that huge drug and arms trade went down, it wasn’t going to actually benefit the country of Kazakhstan. 

They weren’t about to stand by and let the money funnel back to Russia, so they orchestrated a raid on the compound during the trade.  The raid resulted in the death of 12 of the most wanted criminals by Interpol from all over Europe and Asia, including the criminal we framed.  And in addition to those criminals, six Russian bystanders were killed as well.   

Steve’s eyes narrowed, remembering something.  “Clint, I remember that story on the news from that time.  It was a pretty big story.  I’m not actually sure how I remember, because I was in a pretty dark place back then after Nat left.  But I remember seeing the images of the raid and the body bags from our FBI morning newsfeeds.” 

“Right…Well, surprise.  The six Russians weren’t bystanders.  They were Poseidon soldiers.” 

Steve’s eyes darted toward Barton, “Shit, Clint.  How the hell did you survive?”

“It was a huge risk, Rogers, but Natasha and I knew that we could hit them where it hurt if we succeeded.  And we _succeeded_ , and it did really hurt Poseidon.  With the amount of cocaine and heroin and weapons Poseidon was trading, we’re talking about a billion plus dollars that was lost.  Yeah it set them back big time.”

“Jesus Christ, Clint.” 

Steve felt his stomach tighten.  The was a _huge_ sum of money.  Beyond huge.  Stopping a flow of cash like that, had to hit an artery within Poseidon.  And when a syndicate was as vicious and meticulous as Poseidon was, they must have been out for blood after the raid. 

He looked down at Natasha, and slowly…very slowly, pieces of a puzzle started to fit together.  It wasn’t even close to the whole picture, but his brain started clicking as Clint affirmed Steve’s instinct.

“Yeah, you’ve seen firsthand how barbaric crime bosses become when a deal or operation goes sideways.  Money makes people crazy.  Now, take that and multiply it by 100.  Ivan and Oksana were frothing at the mouth when we returned from Kazakhstan.  They looked like fools to their Russian overlords.  And we thought we sold our lie to them.  We had all the pieces in place to prove it was the Kazakhstani criminal who died that was behind it.  We were perfect in our frame job, so we knew it bought us a little time with Ivan and Oksana.  They had to investigate to see what they could find out.”

“But Natasha and I also knew after the raid, it would be too risky to stay, so we planned to fake our deaths.  We actually were planning on having it happen during the actual raid, but Ivan and Oksana tacked on 10 extra Poseidon operatives to Kazakhstan, just to be secure, because of how huge the deal was.  They were on us like fucking hawks, eyeing our every move, so we couldn’t do it then.”

“Why didn’t it happen then, Clint?”  Steve sounded like he could be sick again.

“Like I said – the plan was to fake our deaths.  Jones and company were going to help.  But the same night we were interrogated about the Kazakhstani raid…after we got back…Natasha and I planned to meet, to finalize our plan for our fake deaths.  Only she _disappeared_ for a few hours.  I don’t know where she went – she never told me.  Something happened though, and like the tattoos on her back, and that fucking journal, I was never able to figure out what snapped inside her, because it all got fucked up then.”

Steve didn’t want to know the answers anymore.  He started filling in more pieces of the puzzle, and he was at the part that he couldn’t stomach, when Natasha was taken.  It was like Steve was on a rollercoaster though, approaching the biggest hill that existed, and he was strapped in his seat, unable to avoid the nosedive that was about to occur, so he had no choice but to swallow his panic and fear inside.

“What happened next Clint?”

“Fuck,” Clint hit his fist against the dashboard, remembering everything. 

“She had disappeared and she never told me where she went.  And before I could figure anything out, Natasha and I were tied by our wrists and dragged from our beds across the compound the next morning.  Ivan and Oksana’s human attack dogs, drug us across the hot cement parking lot by hand, to a building where they were.”

Steve could see Clint’s eyes watering from the side of his face as he went on.  “Steve, you have to understand, I…she…The both of us…We _both_ thought our plan had worked.  We both thought we’d covered our tracks, but Ivan and Oksana.  God, I think they _hated_ Natasha even more than America at that point.  They were out for blood.  More than that, they were out to make her hurt and everyone she knew, just as badly.” 

Clint looked at Steve in his mirror, “Rogers, in all my time with Ivan and Oksana, I _never_ saw them actually participate in a beating or punishment or torture.  Smack us?  Sure.  Scream?  Yeah.  Orchestrate a vindictive and meticulous plan?  Of course, that was their sweet spot.  But actually sink to the low level of actually torturing?  No.  _Never._ That’s what they had their soldiers for.”

Steve’s eyebrows knitted together, listening to Clint’s re-telling. 

“They wouldn’t let anyone else do this though.  They were going to personally see to every ounce of pain be administered personally by them…They water boarded us first.”

Clint scoffed, “The shit of the whole matter?  They didn’t have _any_ proof that it was us.  We weren’t just perfect in covering our tracks.  We were _fucking flawless_ , and they didn’t have an ounce of evidence, showing that we had betrayed them.  But they knew Natasha was with you two years ago, and they just _knew_ she had something to do with the raid…and they were rabid in their lust to make her pay.”

Clint sniffed his nose, “I gotta get through this, Rogers.  So, you gotta bear with me.  They were absolutely convinced Natasha was involved.  But they weren’t positive about me.  That bitch, Oksana, came into my cell after I was water boarded.  She told me she was sparing me from any more torture right then, because I might still be of use to them, but not Natasha.  She’d crossed them too many times, and they were going to finally teach her a lesson.”

Clint’s voice was hoarse now, “Natasha was tortured through the night, and they wouldn’t let me see her again until I completed my next mission for them.  I did it, because I was going crazy and panicked, needing to get to her.  I was back, three days later.  They did let me see her…and I’m telling you Rogers, she was… _different_.”

All of the pain and fear and panic Steve was feeling, formed into a ball in his throat and coated his voice as he simply asked with a strained voice, “Different, how Clint?”

“Steve, Natasha was desperate to see you at the cabin.  She thought she was setting you free.  She was incredibly depressed after that, but she still focused on our mission and the endgame – taking down Poseidon.  We always told each other over that time, ‘Whatever it takes.’  But, when I saw her three days after they drug us from our beds, she was empty.  I couldn’t get through to her, and she told me it was over.” 

Clint fought through his emotions, “She said goodbye to me too, Steve.  I begged her to fight.  I told her she just had to make it two more days, until Jones and Cage and their team would be there to get us out.  _Two fucking days_.  But whatever happened, they’d finally broken her…That night was the last time I saw her…She said goodbye to me too.” 

He paused before he said through a shaky breath, “I guess that’s something we have in common, Rogers…Natasha saying goodbye to both of us.”

He took a couple seconds, “After seeing her backside tonight, I would bet that when Natasha disappeared on me…the night before her and I were drug away, she went to get those tattoos changed and put the new Russian words on them.  I don’t know why, but I know they weren’t there in Kazakhstan.  And before I figured any of that out, everything went to shit.  She wouldn’t come out of her room after she said goodbye.  Not that she was physically able to, with how badly they’d beaten her…The next morning Oksana went into her room, found her journal, and that was it.  Natasha was gone, and I never saw her again…until tonight.”

“Clint I…”

Steve lost the ability to speak.  It all became too much.  He looked down at Natasha and watched her emaciated body struggle as he listened to her weakened breathing through the oxygen mask.  The haze he’d been in was so much more than stifling right now… Steve felt _suffocated_ , hearing about the bloodlust that Ivan and Oksana had for the love of his life.  The love of his life, that he thought he’d lost several times over.  And now he’d found and saved her, with evidence of that bloodlust all over her fragile body.  Her fragile body that he held onto with both reverence and dread. 

All of the pain and agony and terror in her eyes, and in Clint’s memories…and in his heart.  All of the love and guilt he felt.  And _all_ of the _unbridled rage_ that he felt towards Ivan and Oksana overwhelmed him.  It wasn’t just silent tears falling no.  Steve couldn’t stop himself from crying anymore. 

Clint was feeling everything too as he began to cry right along with Steve.  As unlikely as it was, the only people they had for comfort right now were each other.  Steve reached up with his free hand to place it on Clint’s shoulder.  That was something else they had in common…They were in this together.

They cried together, trying to find some ability to think and breathe again.  A minute passed before Clint spoke through a shaky breath, “They told me she was dead.  Only because I had to live with them and knew how sadistic Ivan and Oksana’s vengeance was for Natasha, I knew she wasn’t.  I knew they were going to cause her and everyone she loved as much pain as possible.  And I also knew they didn’t trust me anymore.  So, I went through with the plan with my team, and faked my death the next day.  I was more determined than ever to not only take down the fuckers, but to find and save my sister…Whatever it takes.” 

Steve squeezed Clint’s shoulder, and Clint nodded in acknowledgement.  Yeah, they were in this together.

“After I’d heard you received pictures of her body a few months later, I knew my suspicions were true.  They were drawing this out slowly, causing Natasha and everyone who loved her as much pain and torment as they possibly could.” 

For two men that acted like they hated each other for so long, and had just beat each other up outside, only a short while ago, they had such similar paths of pain.   In some ways, Steve and Clint were the _only_ two people who knew what the other one was feeling and thinking right now. 

To think of all that had happened since the two men were around each other, four years ago in Russia, had both of their heads spinning.  It had them wanting to scream.  But there they sat, with Clint driving and Steve holding Natasha, in an understanding silence that, for better or worse, they were in this together now…forever…they always were, they just didn’t know it then. 

Natasha had always been the lynchpin, holding them in the same orbit.  But now.  Now they had shared pain and guilt and rage…and love.   Whatever it takes.  They did whatever it took to get Natasha back.  To save her.  And they’d both do it again in a heartbeat. 

They sat there silently, understanding everything that had happened.  Everything they were feeling.  But also, shared an understanding that they would _absolutely_ do whatever it took, to end Ivan and Oksana’s reign of terror over Natasha once and for all.

* * *

**_4 Years Ago –_ ** _Russia_

_“Son of a bitch…Ouch.”_

_Steve hit his head on the roof of the Lada Niva that he was driving, the 4x4 off-roading vehicle he rented seven hours ago.  He ran his hand over his thick mop of hair, all messed about, from his fingers constantly running through it on his long drive._

_Seven hours he’d been driving._

_He’d landed in St. Petersburg almost eight hours ago, and had gotten on the road shortly after.  The drive had been…foreign to say the least.  In Russia, cars drive on the right side of the road…Just like America.  This vehicle wasn’t so difficult for Steve to operate compared to his own SUV, so that wasn’t really the challenge._

_But everything else? **That** was the challenge._

_Steve was already on edge, being in this country, for one reason and one reason only – to arrest Natasha Romanoff.  But on edge, didn’t quite sum up how he was feeling.  The last seven hours had been a whirlwind, a rush, and a nosedive.  He wasn’t sure which one described which part of the drive, but he knew they all fit._

_He had been warned that the roads in Russia weren’t that well taken care of in a lot of parts.  And they weren’t.  The roads he’d been on were filled with pot-holes, were worn down and broken up by weather and fallen trees.  And most of them, had wild animals crossing the road without a second’s notice._

_He had been warned, as crazy as Steve thought American drivers could be, Russian drivers were more insane – more of risk takers – and by far, more reckless as a whole.  He had been warned, any maps or signs he would read would be in Cyrillic lettering._

_And he had been warned, by his old Army Colonel, Chester Phillips, to not go to Russia in the first place, over their last encrypted, private messaging exchange:_

* * *

_Phillips – 10:17 pm -  Rogers, you may have been a Captain in the Army, but might I remind you that you were under my command.  So, I implore you for the last time, what you’re about to do…is stupidly reckless.  I’m asking you to please re-think what you’re doing.  Do not fly to Russia tomorrow._

_Rogers – 10:18 pm – Sir, I’ll remind you that I never followed your orders that well in the Army either.  I appreciate the concern.  I really do.  But it’s done.  Really, I can’t thank you enough for confirming what I had already started piecing together – that Romanoff will be at the Russian Political Gala in Moscow in three days.  I’m bringing her in._

_Phillips – 10:22 pm – Well, I already regret letting you know she’ll be there.  I forgot how much of a stubborn horse’s ass you can be.  Are you really doing this, Rogers?  You’re going into the heart of enemy territory alone.  Without backup.  In a foreign country against an enemy you can’t even begin to understand._

_Rogers -10:27 pm – I understand her better than anyone._

_Phillips – 10:28 pm – See?  This is exactly what I’m talking about.  I’m not talking about Romanoff.  Your enemy is not what you expect.  I’m talking about the Russian Government.  They don’t play within the norms of social decorum and foreign diplomacy.  If they catch you, you’ll be done, and I’ll never hear from you again.  There won’t be any honoring the fact you’re a Captain from the U.S. Military or Special Agent in the FBI.  Diplomatic immunity will be out the window. **That** I can guarantee. _

_Rogers – 10:31 pm – That’s a risk I have to take, Sir.  This may be the only chance I get._

_Phillips – 10:33 pm – To what, Rogers?  You better finish that statement with yourself before you go over there, because I can assure you there’s more to the end of that sentence then, “to arrest Natasha Romanoff.”_

_Rogers – 10:35 pm – Colonel Phillips, Thank you for the intel.  And thank you for the information.  I’m not planning to make waves though.  I’ll be in and out in 96 hours._

_Phillips – 10:37 pm – Yes, because all of the best plans and events throughout history have gone off without a hitch.  Rogers, what did I tell you when you were first a Private under my command?_

_Rogers – 10:38 pm – Sir, that General Patton said that wars are fought with weapons but are won by men._

_Phillips – 10:39 pm – Good.  Now take that notion, and throw it out the goddamn window.  Because Russian mentality towards wars and winning and their enemies could not be more opposite.  They don’t see Weapons vs. Men.  They see men as weapons.  They have their own men swallow cyanide pills if they get caught.  So what do you think they’ll do to you if they actually catch you?  You should think about that right now…how serious and sadistic of people you’re dealing with.  If you’re going to do this.  Run through everything with me one more time._

_Rogers – 10:45 pm – Sir…_

_Phillips – 10:47 pm – That’s an order, Captain Rogers._

_Rogers – 10:48 pm – Yes, Colonel Phillips.  I’m leaving on a Red Eye flight in four hours, and flying through the early hours of the morning and will arrive in Russia by 6 am, their time._

_Phillips – 10:50 pm – And where are you flying into?_

_Rogers – 10:51 pm – St. Petersburg, Sir.  A wise man told me that if I was going to be brainless enough to do something as stupid as this, that I better listen to him and take notes.  That wise man also told me that I shouldn’t be around Moscow’s or any surrounding airports because they’ll be guarded and watched for the Political Gala._

_Phillips – 10:53 pm – I’m certainly not arguing about the brainless comment.  What else did I say, Rogers?_

_Rogers – 10:55 pm – It’s an eight-hour drive to Moscow from St. Petersburg.  To stay off the main roads, to flow with traffic – don’t go too slow or I’ll get picked up, so if everyone is driving 120 km in a 70 km zone, speed up.  Watch out for animals, pot holes, and poor road conditions.  Don’t trust anyone.  And above all, blend in._

_Phillips – 10:57 pm – Good.  Speaking of blending in, you don’t still look like the squeaky clean private I saw at Barnes’ wedding last year, do you?_

_Rogers – 10:59 pm – No, Sir.  I grew my beard back after I saw you at Bucky’s wedding.  When I found out that you had ties in Russia a year ago, that was when I started searching on my own for Romanoff…And as far as blending in goes, Об этом позаботились._

_Phillips – 11:01 pm – Rogers, did you just tell me in Russian, that you’ve got the blending in, ‘Taken care of?’ More importantly, are you telling me you’ve learned Russian?_

_Rogers – 11:02 pm - Да Полковник.  Я сейчас говорю по Русски_

_Phillips – 11:03 pm – Well it looks like you **can** teach an old dog new tricks, Rogers.  But just because you told me, ‘Yes Colonel, I speak Russian now,’ doesn’t mean you’re invincible.  Blend in.  And keep your skinny ass safe, do you hear me, Soldier?_

_Rogers – 11:05 pm – Yes, Sir.  Thank you, Colonel.  I’ll check in when I get back._

_Phillips – 11:07 pm – Alright.  I can’t talk you out of it.  I know that.  But, Rogers?  Godspeed._

* * *

_Even though his mood was nothing to smile about, Steve grinned thinking of his conversation with Colonel Phillips.  Phillips was working with the military in his pseudo retirement.  He had connected with some of his old sources in Europe.  Turns out, he still had quite a few ties with some Russians that he could trust, and had reached out on Steve’s behalf, confirming that Natasha would be at the Gala in three days from his last private messaging with Colonel Phillips._

_That was yesterday…a day ago._

_Which meant in two days, Steve would find her.  He’d get to his hotel and check in today, and he’d spend tonight and tomorrow doing re-con in Moscow, around the Hall the Gala was going to be in, and at his hotel.  He’d bring her back in three days from now._

_Rogers made a sharp turn to the right with his Lada Niva, almost going into a ditch off the extremely narrow shoulder.  Steve had taught himself Russian over the last year, as part of his efforts to locate Natasha.  The idea sparked after talking to Phillips at Bucky and Wanda’s wedding.  He’d made a decision then that he’d find her and arrest her, bringing himself the closure he needed._

_As quick of a learner as Steve was to the Russian language, it still wasn’t easy.  He glanced at the sign on the side of the road, and at the Cyrillic wording on it, and then at the map in the passenger seat – he had an hour to go until Moscow._

_Steve slammed on his brakes, bringing the vehicle to an abrupt halt.  In front of him, were two large Elk, slowly crossing the road along the vast and open Russian countryside.  They paused to look at Steve, almost asking him, “Are you sure about this?”_

_Steve thought back to his conversation with Natasha **so** long ago at Quantico, and scoffed out a sarcastic laugh and said to himself, “Sure Rogers, it’ll be fun.”_

_Maybe he wouldn’t get to the hotel in Moscow for another hour and a half, since apparently he was on Elk time right now.  So, he put the clutch down and the 4x4 in neutral, as he waited and thought about what the days ahead would bring._

* * *

**Present –** Driving

Steve bounced out of the memory of his literal bumpy drive to Moscow as his own SUV made a turn onto a more crowded highway. 

His headache was pounding as je went over everything he’d learned from Clint since they left the cabin:

  * Natasha was on another rooftop watching Bucky and Wanda’s reception, five years ago. Ironically, it was the same night that Steve’s plan to track her down in Russia started after talking with Colonel Phillips
  * Four years ago, after Russia, Clint and Natasha started their plan to take down their handlers
  * They met Jessica Jones and the mercenaries shortly after, and worked with them
  * Poseidon named themselves two years ago 
  * Someone from Poseidon followed Natasha to the cabin two years ago, and Ivan and Oksana found out
  * A week before Natasha was taken, her and Clint tanked a drug and arms trade deal in Kazakhstan where 12 criminals and six Poseidon operatives were killed.
  * Poseidon lost over a billion dollars, severely slowing their plans because of the loss of money
  * Clint and Natasha covered their tracks, and planned to fake their deaths and escape Poseidon that same week.
  * Natasha left before they could finish planning their escape without telling Clint, which is when he thought she got her tattoos on her back changed
  * The next day they were interrogated by Ivan and Oksana
  * Natasha was held and tortured for three days, she was different when Clint got back to her
  * Clint said she’d given up, told him goodbye even, and the following morning Oksana found her journal and Natasha disappeared. She was taken for good.



Steve was pulled out of his wicked tailspin as they entered the city limits.  They still had 20 minutes to go before they reached the FBI.  Clint’s started to wonder how in the hell this reunion with Steve’s team, former and current, was going to go, “Why do I feel like everyone’s reactions to me entering FBI headquarters are going to be a little more shocking and volatile, than when you found Loki earlier today?”

“Let me handle it, Clint.  I’ll figure out a way to get through to them.  They won’t be convinced of anything you tell them right away, so don’t even try.  Their guards will be up.  But all they need to do, is at least question their instincts.  Then they’ll pause to listen and will help formulate a plan.  I know I can get them to do that.”

Clint laughed sarcastically, “Rogers, are you trying to tell me, that my hope of not getting shot, is based on you _thinking,_ you can get them to question their instinct to shoot me?  Solid.  Sounds solid.”

“Well, it’s about as solid as the plan was tonight to get Nat back.  I mean that plan held up for what?  30 seconds, before you were telling me to run and get her because Poseidon knew we were there…”

Both men laughed a little as Clint said, “I hope a cop doesn’t pull us over now.  Our appearance and what we have in here are questionable at best.”  Both men laughed a little more.  It was an awful joke, and a horrible point of humor considering the condition of all three passengers in the vehicle, but anything was better than the horrors that lingered beneath the surface.  Gallows humor –  if they didn’t laugh, they’d cry.  And they’d cried enough.

Just as that thought went through Steve’s brain, it must have jinxed the tiny reprieve they had from their grief.  Because Natasha’s eyes flung open right at that second as she let out a hollowed yell through her oxygen mask.

“Helppppp,” was all Steve could hear through the mask and her scratchy vocal chords. 

Natasha still wasn’t understanding anything in her surroundings, or that the two men that loved her more than anything in this world, had her safe in their presence.  She tried to grab at her IV and her oxygen mask as Steve slid out from underneath her head and squatted tightly between the bench and the front seat.

“Fuck…Clint, just keep driving and get to HQ.  She’s awake.” 

Clint heard Natasha’s cry and the temptation of breaking down was strong as he felt his heart constrain.  He somehow clenched his jaw though, once again forcing all of his thoughts to the back of his mind.  Enough adrenaline was left in him to get them to Headquarters without losing it. 

Steve crouched, tight between the seats, and grabbed both of her hands, holding them over her stomach on top of the blanket.  It didn’t take much strength to keep her still.  He leaned over to her, as his back began to cramp from all of the fighting he’d done that evening, and as the stab wound on his thigh screamed with sharp pulsations as it started to bleed more.    

He bit down hard on his cheek and pushed through it because it didn’t matter in the moment. 

 _Nothing_ mattered except Natasha’s pain.  More pain that he could even comprehend.  Steve held her head against the seat with the slightest pressure of his palm and whispered in her ear continuously, “Natasha it’s me.  It’s Steve.  I love you.  Clint’s here.  We saved you.  You’re with us.”  He continued to repeat these short statements over and over again as he rubbed circles on the backs of her hand with his thumb. 

He could see tears leaking from her eyes.  He wasn’t sure if they were from sheer pain, a panicked state of mind, suffocating from fear, or if she was finally hearing _him_.  He hoped it was the last thought, but he knew in his gut that it wasn’t. 

She kept trying to push her feet against the car door and clawed at the blanket over her stomach where he had her hands held.

“Rogers, you’re going to have to give her another sedative.  It’s been a couple of hours since the first one and the adrenaline going through her body is wiping it out.  We’re going to have a real problem if you don’t get it in her now.”  Steve hated the idea, but knew Clint was right.  She was going to hurt herself, and they couldn’t get Natasha into the FBI, if she was fighting them the entire way.  They had to sneak her in, and the only way to do that in their state of appearance, was by keeping her unconscious. 

Steve awkwardly reached up to the medical bag in the front seat with his other hand.  As he let go of her for a moment, Natasha kept clawing away at the blanket that was pulled off of her slightly.  Her brittle nails began scratching at the skin on her own arms, and her neck, and around her belly button.  It was like she was trying to claw her skin off, leaving painful red lines behind. 

Steve stared at her, frozen at the image for a second, as he found the other syringe and pulled it out of the bag.  She had left marks all over her frail skin, even causing bleeding in some spots. 

He popped the cap as he whispered in her ear again, “I promise you Natasha, you are safe now.  I love you,” and he injected the drug into her neck for the second time tonight.  Steve watched her quickly shut her wide-eyed stare and resume the heavy labored breathing from moments ago. 

The suffocating feeling came over both men again during the last part of their drive, as the tears came back.  If you don’t laugh you’ll cry, and they weren’t laughing at all right now.    

* * *

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all are seriously the best readers out there. I hope you enjoyed this one!
> 
> I also added an updated timeline through Ch. 18 at the bottom – the red text are the updates.
> 
> I love hearing from readers, so let me know your thoughts.
> 
> Come follow me on Tumblr @eightieskat if you'd like to chat about anything with the story, Marvel, or anything else.
> 
> Have a great day!!
> 
> Cheers!~~Kat


	19. Reconnaissance.  Reunited.  Reconnection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another cameo in this one…two of them actually ;) Also, some smut in this chapter (and by some, I mean a lot at the end of this one…lol)
> 
> Enjoy the chapter and image board below!

Memories & Reality

I do not own any of this or any part of Marvel or the MCU

Chapter 19 – Reconnaissance.  Reunited.  Reconnection.

 

* * *

**_4 Years Ago –_ ** _Russia_

_A large explosion rang through the night sky, followed by a cascade of purple and green and red on a black canvas…fireworks._

_Steve Rogers looked up at the blasts of color as he stood in the middle of Red Square in Moscow, Russia._

_The central focal point of the city was alive, buzzing with vibrancy and people.  And now fireworks accompanied the bustling energy around him._

_The Gala that Steve was attending tomorrow evening, coincided with a festival located in the City Centre over a three-day weekend.  The festival brought in merchants and vendors, street musicians and entertainers…and tourists.  Lots of tourists.  Tourists that were able to mill about on streets, that were usually bursting with Russian traffic.  But not on this long weekend.  For three days and three nights, traffic was routed away from the square, so that tourists could take part in the festival, walk around endlessly, and join in the merriment._

_Steve arrived at his hotel the previous evening, very happy to be away from the Russian roads (potholes, fallen trees, elk, and all.)  He had showered quickly, threw on a fresh pair of jeans, a white t-shirt and a navy jacket.  Keeping it simple would help with blending in.  Before he did anything though, he needed to eat.  The entire flight, and then subsequent drive from St. Petersburg left his stomach feeling like a black hole.  The last thing he ate was almost a full day ago before his red eye when he’d had an airport sandwich and stale coffee._

_Steve went to the hotel bar and ordered something he’d remembered, from all his years with Natasha when she cooked Russian cuisine for him or took him out for it – Shashlik, Pirozhki, a bowl of Ukha, and a water.  The bartender raised his eyebrow, glaring at him when he only ordered water, and said in the thickest of Russian accents, “American, no?”_

_“Da,” (Да), Steve answered as the man let out a hearty laugh, “Aw, you are trying to…what is it they say, ‘When in Rome?’  Only now it is, ‘When in Russia!’”  Steve’s beard hid most of his smile, but it reached his eyes hearing the man continue, “Well, the first thing you must know, is that vodka is like water here…In fact we like to say, 'Save water._   _Drink Vodka!”'_

_Steve was handed two shots of Stolichnaya, “For you, bearded man.  My welcome to you, to our country.”_

_Natasha and Clint had always made jokes about how much Russians loved their liquor…specifically vodka.  Turns out they weren’t kidding.  Steve threw one down his throat, immediately drawing his lips against his teeth in response.  Honestly, it helped calm his nerves a little._

_The barkeep joined him for the second one and clinked their glasses, “Nostrovia!” (Для здоровья!)._

_Now **that**  word Steve knew, long before he’d learned Russian.  He and Clint and Natasha loudly said the Russian word, ‘For health!’ many, many times.  It really meant, ‘Let’s get drunk.’  Steve nodded again and threw the next one back._

_The man laughed again as he put Steve’s order in, and gave him a beer instead of water, and another shot of Stolichnaya, “Let the Moskva River have her water.  We’re men…let us have our spirits.”_

_Steve held back the groan in his throat.  He was going to have to stop drinking on an empty stomach if he was going to make it out of the hotel for any recon tonight.  Fifteen minutes later, Steve’s food was in front of him.  His famished stomach sang as he enjoyed the kebabs, pastries, and soup, finally filling his stomach with something besides vodka and beer.  After his second beer and fourth shot, Steve pointed to his watch and the festival outside, indicating that he had to go.  The bartender waved him off and laughed again, muttering “Americans.  Always in such a rush.”_

_That was how Steve’s first night in Moscow started and was pretty much how the following day went.  And that was how Steve found himself standing smack dab in the middle of Red Square, under a blanket of fireworks, the evening before he’d finally reunite with Natasha…to arrest her._

_Between last night and all of today, while acting like a tourist, Steve had 15 shots of vodka, 10 beers, three glasses of Kvass (which was pretty much thick beer), five cabbage rolls, something called borscht that he would **not**  have again, porridge, and a hearty dinner of beef stroganoff and pelmeni dumplings.  He felt like all he was missing was a partridge in a pear tree. _

_This morning, Steve ran seven miles to wipe out his nerves and the previous evening’s vodka from the bar tender.  He’d have to run at least 10 tomorrow to not feel like a brick at the bottom of the ocean._

_It was well into the evening as Steve made his last trip around the square, this time from a different vantage point of the Grand Kremlin Palace – the location of the Gala._

_Steve declined an attractive woman’s offer to dance as a folk band played an upbeat tempo in the background.  The woman persisted, much to Steve’s annoyance, so he went into a market of vendors to get away from her as he bought a Russian Matryoshka doll, some amber, and a couple of other trinkets along the way.   The food and drink were heavy, but delicious.  The music was lively.  The atmosphere was…almost romantic.  Anyone could have a wonderful time.  Almost anyone._

_Steve wasn’t actually enjoying the festival.  It was all a ruse, and he was only following his Colonel’s advice, “blend in.”  That was what all of it was about after all…reconnaissance - to blend in, gather intel, and scope out the location of the Gala, so he could determine the best way to get Natasha from the Palace to his vehicle tomorrow night._

_Even though Steve wasn’t reveling in the festivities of the evening, he couldn’t stop the probing thoughts from entering his mind.  It had been the same last night too.  The thoughts of how Natasha would have made fun of Steve’s attempt to avoid flirtation with that woman, trying to dance with him.  How her and Clint would have laughed their asses off as he stomached yet another “Nostrovia,” cheers and shot of vodka.  He couldn’t help but realize that this was the first time he’d been to Russia, and it **wasn’t**  with Natasha.  He’d always thought they’d come here together someday. _

_And while Steve was planning on leaving Moscow with Natasha, they would **not**  be together as he’d once hoped.  Because right now, the time for dreams and love, and how things were supposed to be, were long gone. _

_They’d been gone for three long years._

_Instead, Steve was filled with the sick feelings of pain, resentment, and anger.  Natasha had done what he never dreamed possible – betrayed and lied to not just the FBI, but him.  Steve thought they were past all of that, once she initially opened up to him at Quantico.  But he was wrong._

_And as much as he and the team had tried to find her legitimately during the first couple of years after she ran, the efforts had dwindled over time.  It was only natural – they were FBI agents.  And the team started to split soon after she left.  And honestly, besides Steve, they all had lives outside of Natasha._

_But last year, Bucky and Wanda got married and a couple of things happened._

_Steve had to deal with the pain he was confronted with on that beautiful day, knowing that he **wouldn’t**  marry the woman, who was once the love of his life.  He hated that those feelings crowded into his happiness for his brother and Wanda.  He hated that he was still feeling any anger and pain at all.  But most of all, he hated that she wasn’t there with him, celebrating the love of two important people in his life…Little did he know, Natasha  **was**  there with him in spirit and presence, from another rooftop, feeling the exact same heartache. _

_No.  She wasn’t there over the last three years, just like she wasn’t with him now, experiencing Russian dancing, drinking, and food together.  And she wasn’t back home with him, as Wanda and Bucky were about to become parents.  He couldn’t help think that he was going to be **only**  Uncle Steve…and not Uncle Steve and Aunty Nat.  He hated it._

_That was the first thing that had happened – the overwhelming confrontation of ‘what would have been.’  Bucky and Wanda’s wedding ended up being the culmination of three years of building resentment, pain, and anger.  And those embittered feelings led directly into the second thing that happened (and probably the most significant).  Steve encountered Colonel Phillips.  The scowled faced C.O. over Bucky and Steve while they were in the Army.  He’d surprised the brothers with his attendance at the wedding._

_If Natasha would have stayed longer on the rooftop, watching Steve that evening, she would have seen Steve and Phillips get into a lengthy discussion, about the Colonel helping out the military in Europe, and how he still had close, foreign contacts in both Europe and Russia._

_Phillips made the grave mistake that evening, of letting Steve know how knowledgeable he was about the native country of Natasha…The woman who caused Steve to look like, as the Colonel said, “A shriveled up, wrinkly old glove from worry.”_

_The conversation was enough to spark an idea in Steve.  A foolish idea, for sure.  But it was **something**  to finally funnel his resentment and pain towards.  It was a goal.  A resolution forming in his mind.  A plan to hopefully help Steve move on.  A plan that officially started formulating a year ago.  The plan - to bring Natasha in, arrest her, and finally move on.  The plan would close the book and bring a final conclusion to that chapter of his life. _

_Laughable, right?_

_Well, it’s amazing how seriously someone can convince themselves of a plan, a belief, a person, or whatever it is, in the heat of the moment…and then turns out to be laughable or unthinkable in hindsight.  No one ever said, ‘Current or foresight is 20/20.’  No.  Hindsight was 20/20.  And Steve was in denial.  Hell, he’d flown halfway around the globe to try to prove he wasn’t in denial._

_Denial…is the drug of the foolish and the ignorant.  Steve was a little bit of both right now._

_Steve was ignorant to the fact that Natasha left him, for reasons she felt were beyond her control, and because she thought she was protecting him and everyone else she loved.  She didn’t tell him, and he wouldn’t know for years to come.  But regardless, his ignorance made him blind with anger.  And he was foolish.  God was he ever…astoundingly foolish…to think he could even **begin** to _ _close the chapter in his life on Natasha Romanoff._

_Foolish and ignorant indeed._

_So, Rogers spent the last year in the evenings, searching for her on his own without his friends and family’s knowledge.  It started with a simple google search, if you could believe that.  And that sparked a little more searching.  And a week later, after looking up word after word in Russian, he finally decided it’d be easier if he just learned the language.  By no means was he perfect, but he was a quick learner._

_Steve had stayed in contact with Phillips throughout the course of the year, probing him for more and more information about Russia, and then more about the organization Steve had heard ‘rumors’ of in the Army._

_Phillips knew it was bullshit and called him out on the fact that Rogers wasn’t just curious about Russian folklore and tall tales.  But he was a retired Colonel, happy to be talking to his star Captain turned lead FBI Agent.  And the more they talked, the more…loose lipped Phillips became._

_At some point, Phillips made the mistake by telling Steve about a prestigious Russian Political Gala in Moscow, being a front for all the heavy hitting criminals in the area.  The front was for side deals to occur with politicians and criminals in attendance.  Phillips told Steve, “Hell, I bet your former lady will even be there with her kind…What were their Russian names, Ivan and Oksana?  I remember hearing that they’ll be in attendance from my contact in Moscow.”_

**_That_  ** _was the spark, and the trail of fire took off rapidly._

_Steve knew then, that the Gala had to be cover for something to do with the group that Natasha and Clint were forced into…the group that she left him for.  And Steve just **knew**  Natasha and Clint would probably be at the same Gala with their handlers.  If it was big enough of an event to draw Ivan and Oksana from the states back to Moscow, then she’d be there too.  Colonel Phillips had warned Steve that he’d be going into the lion’s den of enemy territory.  As dramatic as Phillips had sounded, he wasn’t wrong. _

_As Steve used his vantage point from the market where he was buying souvenirs, he watched the area, and saw how heavily secured it was.  There were so many armed guards and security personnel, that Steve started to wonder just how in the hell he was going to even find Natasha tomorrow._

_He made a few more mental notes before heading back to his room with his backpack full of ‘blending in’ purchases, to finish his reconnaissance over the last two nights._

_Steve only got maybe an hour of sleep that night.  The anticipation…the denial…the pain and love inside of him…it all battled within his brain throughout the night and made him feel like a live wire ready to go off.  He was going to find Natasha tomorrow.  He was going to bring her in.  And he was going to get some goddamn answers, so he could move on._

* * *

**Present Day –** FBI HQ

Fury’s three-hour window for the task-force had come and gone as the evening pushed well into the 11:00 hour…the last hour of a long, tiring, shocking, and emotionally exhausting day. 

The team gathered together into the conference room once again.  Throughout the course of the day, the team found a way to put aside old emotional wounds to work together again.  They’d gathered intel, found out Jasper Sitwell was working for the Russians, right under Secretary Ross’s nose, and that Clint was the source for Loki and Maria.  They’d discovered Poseidon’s intrusion into the U.S. government was wide reaching.  But beyond knowing Poseidon had infiltrated the State Department and the D.O.D., and the specifics of Jasper Sitwell, nothing else had been found yet.  Following the money trail from the Lemurian Star Holding Corporation was going to be tedious…and would take time.

With all that they had found, the fact remained - they hadn’t found Steve yet, and it was weighing heavily inside the room right now.

No texts, calls, or communication had come in from their missing team member, and friend, and brother.  And the room was drenched with worry.  Bucky’s face was frozen in a permanent despondency as he stared at the table.  Wanda and Sam surrounded him, trying to help comfort him in any way they could, but there was nothing they could do right now because they were burdened with a panicked feeling inside too.  It felt literally and figuratively like the 11th hour right now, and that something awful was going to happen when the initial six-hour warning was up.  

Maria broke the silence, “Loki, tell us again – you told Steve six hours, right?”

“Yes, but I swear to you all, I have no idea where he went.  The plan was designed that way so he wasn’t followed.”

“I still can’t believe he ran out of here without his badge.  What if it was a trap?”  Sam added.

“What if Steve arrived at his location, and…Natasha wasn’t there?”  Thor said. 

“What if she was there?  What does  _that_  mean?  And we don’t even know where, ‘there,’ is.”

Tony’s voice gave everyone pause as Bucky’s fists were clenched on the table while Wanda rested her forehead on his shoulder.  Time had almost run its course, and right now, they were all helpless as they waited out the clock. 

It was a dreadful feeling. 

Fury got ahold of the reins quickly and righted the ship before the emotions of the room spiraled out of control, “Alright, nothing good is going to come from any of this, so let’s go over everything one more time.”

* * *

**Present Day –** Driving

The SUV was approaching the private parking garage for HQ.  Rogers had instructed Clint to use the entrance from the south, where a service elevator was located – a way to his floor without having to go through the lobby. 

Steve pulled the blanket all the way over Natasha, covering her entire body and face in case they encountered any other vehicles.  The windows were tinted, but he was on high alert and was covering all of his bases.  Steve had a clearance pass to the private ramp in the SUV, and they entered it without any problems, a minute after Steve had told Clint where to turn. 

It was almost midnight. 

The hour that Cinderella had to go home.  The hour of Paul Revere’s ride.  The hour…that Natasha and Steve were supposed to be killed by Poseidon.  But they weren’t.  Steve had her, and was now bringing her and Clint back to the FBI.  In one day’s time, Steve’s world and sense of reality had been torn to shreds.  And he was about to take the source of his shattered reality back into Headquarters for the first time in seven years. 

Steve noticed Clint pointing a black object with a laser toward a security camera as he entered the garage.  He did it again and again and again to each of the other eight cameras along the way.  “What are you doing, Clint?” 

“The laser causes the security camera to short out.  This SUV’s image was probably captured from the initial camera before I fried it, but I think I prevented the license plate from getting on camera…or my face.  The ones by the elevator are going to be harder though.  One of our faces might get caught because we’re going to have to get close enough to zap it.”

Steve sighed, “I’ll do it, Barton.  If Poseidon would find a way into the footage, it’s better to keep you and Nat off of it completely.  After we get upstairs, I’ll see what I can do about destroying any of the captured images.  We can’t take any chances.”

“That’s good thinking, Rogers.  You’re a natural at this whole, ‘working outside the law,’ thing.”

They both scoffed at Clint’s joke.  He wasn’t necessarily wrong about Steve, who’d been crossing the line for Natasha ever since he’d found out about her past and agreed to keep it a secret for her.  Yes, it was out of love and devotion and protection for her, but he was so far beyond that initial line right now, he couldn’t even begin to see where it was. 

“You aren’t wrong about not taking any chances, Rogers.  I believe you when you say we can trust your team.  But trust me when I say, there are other Poseidon operatives hidden in government agencies in the US, and if one of them catches wind of us being here with Natasha, they will stop at nothing to finish tonight’s job.” 

The headache had never left Steve the entire day, ever since finding Loki.  It had ebbed and flowed in strength and intensity, but right now it felt like a needle was stabbing straight into his temple.  Everything inside him was making its voice loud and clear - tiredness, mental exhaustion, pain and relief from having Natasha in his arms in the state she was in, and an incredible throbbing in his thigh…arms…and whole body from where he’d been cut, stabbed, kicked, gassed, and punched.    

Steve let out a large breath as he closed his eyes and pressed harder into the sides of his head, “One step at a time,” he muttered to himself.  That was all he could say right now.  Because right now, the next step had to be getting Natasha medical treatment.  He could worry about preventing Poseidon from finding them after. 

Cutting off the security cameras was only part of the problem of getting inside safely.  Steve blew out another breath, “Clint when we get inside…you’re going to have to restrain yourself from getting emotional.  You weren’t wrong before when you said things might get…interesting.  They were  _interesting_ before I ran out earlier today, and that was before all of this.  I know I can convince the team to trust you, but if things get heated in there with anyone…you gotta stay calm.  And you can’t give them a reason to shoot, because they will.”

“Well, what’s a welcome party without a few surprises?” Clint said dryly.

It fell flat.  Both men knew they were walking into a tense situation, bordering on unhinged.  Steve knew what he’d been through over the last six hours…but he was starting to finally think about what he’d probably put Bucky and Wanda and Sam…and everyone else through, over the course of the evening.  Honestly, Steve didn’t know for sure if he could get through to the team.  But he knew they wouldn’t argue after seeing Natasha’s body, and Clint’s or his appearance. 

He just hoped that Bucky or Tony wouldn’t do something foolish beforehand.

The SUV was parked, “Clint, there’s one other camera on the outside of the elevator you can still reach.”  Clint aimed the laser where Rogers pointed and saw the red light fizz out like a blink of an eye.  “Here Rogers, you take it.  It’s easy, just point it at the center of the camera until you see the red light blink off.  If you’re close enough, you’ll probably hear a pop from the electricity going haywire inside.” 

“I’ve used one like it before.  I just didn’t recognize it earlier when you pulled it out.  It should be easy enough.”  Clint handed Steve a baseball cap, a scarf, and a large pair of glasses, “Take these too, Steve…Just in case.”

Steve nodded and grabbed the gear.  Pulling the blanket back, he shut his eyes tight for a second as he looked at Natasha again.  He didn’t want to leave her…even if it was for a minute.  He bent over to kiss her forehead quick as he put on the hat, scarf, and glasses, “Clint, I think it goes without saying, I’m trusting you to still be in this same exact spot with Natasha when I get back in a minute.”

Seven years of feeling betrayed and at odds with Natasha’s brother didn’t just disappear immediately. 

Clint chuckled and looked at Steve, “Yeah it goes without saying, Rogers.  Just like it goes without saying, that  _I trust you_  not to give anyone a head’s up, upstairs, to come down and arrest me right now.”  A terse nod was exchanged between the tired men – they were in this together and understood each other more than anyone else could right now. 

Clint held the small oxygen tank in his hands and watched as Rogers went to scramble the cameras.  While he was waiting, some of his repressed emotions began to surface again.  It was the first moment he’d had alone with his sister in two years, and he couldn’t stop his eyes from glassing over, “Я люблю тебя моя сестра. Я подвел тебя в прошлом, но теперь твоя любовь ... твой Стив ... и брат не подведет тебя снова. Пусть вы будете в безопасности в своем путешествии под нашими часами.”

He kept his eyes closed for a moment as he kissed his fingertips and reached back, gently placing them on Natasha’s frail fingers and then on her forehead.  He had said, “I love you, my sister.  I have failed you in the past, but now your love…your Steve…and your brother will not let you down again.  May you be safe in your journey, under our watch.” 

Rogers returned to the vehicle, and Clint wiped his eyes quickly.  Steve looked at him with understanding…They were the only ones who  _could_  understand.  Clint reached into the side of the medical bag, and put on his own ball cap.  He put on another set of glasses and a large sweatshirt over his coat, pulling the hood up.  Throwing the medical bag over his shoulder, he tossed the SUV keys to Steve.  Rogers reached down, put his long-arm rifle over his back, and with the help of Clint, pulled Natasha out of the backseat to carry her in his arms once again. 

Clint made sure the IV pump and bag, and oxygen tank were placed between Rogers’ chest and Natasha’s body, securing them in place.  Steve leaned over to give Natasha a quick kiss on the forehead, “Just a little bit further, Natasha,” and they moved toward the elevator.   

* * *

Maria and Bruce were running through the events of the day for the task-force as Thor wrote everything down on the board behind them.  Everyone was following and going through the motions as Fury’s plan to keep everyone occupied seemed to be working…for everyone except Barnes. 

Bucky was lost in his head still, silently watching the clock tick faster and faster.

The six-hour mark was only minutes away, and he had a hole that felt like the size of the Grand Canyon in his stomach.  Wanda knew to let him be for a little while, so she’d been scanning through her laptop for the last 20 minutes, seeing if she could find anything obscure that had popped up since her last check.  Thor was the first to notice her as he stopped writing on the board.  Wanda’s eyes almost popped out of her head as she started looking closer at her computer screen. 

“Ouch.  Wanda, what?”  Loki was the next to notice her as she started moving her hand, waving it around to grab his attention.  She’d grabbed it by accidentally smacking him right in the face.

Bucky’s head sprung up and looked at her, “Wanda, what’s wrong?”

She looked up and glanced around at everyone, who were all staring at her as she looked back at her laptop two more times, double and triple checking the screen.  Bucky leaned over to her, “Wanda, seriously I love you, and I know you expect me to read your mind…but it’s late.  You gotta speak for me be to be able to understand you right now.” 

Wanda let out a sigh of frustration.  Everyone needed to see what she was seeing.  She stood up and connected her laptop with the projector screen behind Fury, “Move Fury.”  It  _was_  late, but Wanda never ordered Fury around like that, “Maximoff, would you like to clue us in on what has you babbling like a fish out of water?”

“Right…sorry.  I meant, could you please move, Fury?  I need to show everyone something.”

Fury stepped aside as Wanda’s eyes were still open wide while she started rambling, “Okay, so I was just going through the database again to see if I could change some parameters around to do an overnight scan to see if we could catch any data patterns that Loki and I didn’t pick up on before…”

She took a deep breath to see everyone staring at her with a dumbfounded expression, “Right…Sorry.  So, after I was done with that, I did another sweep over the security checks program I have in place, and I noticed since my last check an hour ago, that several of the cameras in the garage near the service elevator started to scramble.”

Fury looked at her and moved his hand, telling her silently to go on.  “They all went fuzzy, one right after another as a black SUV entered garage.” 

She’d buried the lead, because  _that_ got everyone’s attention as every team member sprung to life and sat straight in their seats, looking responsively at her screen now, “There’s only one shot of the SUV, and I can’t see the license plate on it.  You have to have security clearance to get into that ramp, so I can’t tell who it is…Oh my god.”

“Wanda, what?” Tony said loudly as he stood up now.  The room was shocked to life with energy as Wanda shared the grainy footage of a black SUV, “Okay, I’m just seeing this now too.  But look at the security camera from 30 seconds ago, right outside the service elevator.”

The team leaned forward as she brought up the screen, showing the elevator and Wanda continued, “Someone was just there and fried the video.  The image is blurry, so I can’t really tell who it is.”  Wanda zoomed in on the only frame that caught a glimpse of the person.  It was Steve, but they didn’t know that because he had his ball cap and scarf on while he looked down the entire time. 

Bucky was running to the door immediately.

Fury yelled after him and at everyone else, “Barnes, wait!  We don’t know who that is, or what their objective is by trying to knock out the security cameras, so everyone, grab their firearms and cover the bullpen…Now!” 

Bucky and Sam ran to their desks to grab their guns.  Maria, Stark, Rhodey, and Thor all had their weapons on them, and drew them instantly, scattering through the bullpen to cover each angle towards the service elevator.  The elevator was down a short hallway at the opposite end of the main entrance to their floor. 

Fury and Banner sprinted to their offices to grab their firearms and would cover the back end of the office.  Bucky tossed Wanda an extra piece he had at his desk and Loki grinned at her as she scolded him, “Don’t even think about it, Loki.  Assets don’t get guns.  Here…get over here.”

She pushed him into a corner to hide behind a desk near the conference room as she covered Bucky and Sam who went straight through the center row of desks.  Nine.  Nine weapons were drawn towards the service elevator as the task-force waited with abated breath with each passing second. 

A minute went by, and their agitation was through the roof, right along with their heartrates, before they all finally heard the ding of the elevator.

* * *

Steve’s body was in a battle with itself. 

The day was more than taking its toll on him, and he’d been holding Natasha for several minutes now as he carried her through the ramp, and into the service elevator, which always moved much slower than the main floor lobby elevators. 

Over the last hour during their drive, Steve had been sedentary for the most part, and now that he was standing and moving his muscles, he realized that he’d lost a lot of blood today.

But even though his body was physically weakened, he was on edge as adrenaline once again coursed through his body.  He was back at the FBI, but they weren’t out of the woods yet.  And Clint?  Clint was dancing on a razor thin wire, worrying about what kind of welcome he would receive.  They knocked out the cameras in case anyone besides his team was in the building.  No chances were being taken. 

Now, the plan was for Steve to exit the elevator first to hopefully lessen the blow, but half way up the ride to their floor, of course their plan went to shit.  It seems  _part_  of the plan was for things to collapse before they even started right now.

Natasha started coughing.  First it was mild, but she wouldn’t stop.  And then it became more forceful, causing her body to thrash against Steve’s chest.  And seconds later, he saw it.  She was coughing up blood, splattering the inside of her oxygen mask. 

“Shit, Clint…what the hell is happening to her?”  Timing had it out for the three of them, because the elevator dinged. 

As the blood and the coughing, and Steve’s inordinate amount of worry filled the air, Clint began to panic.  So as soon as the doors opened, Clint ran out, hoping to find a table or something to pull over to place her on.  Little did he know that nine guns were going to be pointed in his direction. 

Barton ran into the corridor as he heard Starks voice shout, “Get your hands in the air.”

Clint’s instinctual response kicked in as he drew his weapon as Steve yelled at him to stop.  But he was distracted by more coughing and blood coming out of Natasha’s mouth.  He leaned against the elevator to hold her close through her coughing fit. 

The eight seconds it took Steve, to keep hold of her were vital.  And not just for Natasha’s airway.  Clint pulled his gun as Bucky and Sam and Maria came forward.  Steve heard Sam’s voice next, “Clint?  What the fuck are you doing here?  Get your hands on your head!”

Maria yelled, “Drop your weapon,” as Clint yelled right back, “I’m not dropping anything until you listen to me, Hill.”

Just like in a holdup, triggered responses, fear, and anger were the most dangerous things in that room right now.  The day had been long, and people were sick with worry about their friend and brother, and all they saw right now was Clint, in a disguise with bloodied hands and a dirty face…And he was pointing a gun at them.  All Clint saw was a group of people ready to pounce on him.  He wasn’t going to let his sister walk into a room full of guns.  The bullpen was like a powder keg, ready to go off at the light of a match

Steve heard Bucky’s voice next, “The next time I speak, a bullet is going to go through your chest if you don’t drop that gun now, Clint.  It’s been a long fucking day here, and I wanna know where my goddamn brother is.”

Clint’s jaw was clenched as his gun shifted from Stark to Sam to Maria to Bucky.  He caught the others out of the corner of his eye.  Wanda and Loki were crouched behind a desk to his far left.  Fury was about 10 feet to the right of him, and then Thor and Banner and Rhodey covered the rest of the bullpen at different angles. 

“Nat, hold on.” Steve whispered, holding her securely again before he yelled out, “Buck, it’s me.  Don’t hurt Clint.”

“Rogers?  You’re back there?” Stark answered first as Bucky’s face paled with fear, “Steve?  Are you okay?”

“Of course, he’s okay.  Put your goddamn weapons down, so he can come out of there and not walk into a firing squad,” Clint was on edge too, but that was definitely the wrong thing to say.  Sam moved towards Clint as they stood a few feet apart, now with both of their guns cocked against one another, “Bad choice of words, Clint.  Get on your knees.” 

“No fucking way.  Not until I know it’s safe for my sister to come out here.”

The prodding of emotions that had occurred since the elevator sounded, now became a shoving match.  “Romanoff is with you?” Fury yelled out.  Bucky was ready to charge at the elevator, worried that Natasha might have Steve at gunpoint or something.  There was  _no way_  any of them could know.  How could they?  Steve had been radio silent for six hours. 

Bucky ran past Clint and stopped dead in his tracks as he saw the image before him. 

Steve, barely standing against the elevator door, looked like he had literally been to hell and back.  And he was straining to hold onto a very bloody and beaten and  _very_ thin Natasha, “Steve…what the…what happened?” Bucky managed to whisper.  The adrenaline may have been coursing through Steve’s veins, but his body didn’t have much left to give right now. 

Triage. 

Just like Steve, Bucky was a soldier, so no matter how many questions and racing thoughts he had in that exact moment, all he saw was his brother…who was very hurt.  And he saw Natasha, back from the dead, but just barely.  So, triage mentality kicked in.  Help the wounded first.

Bucky’s face had contorted from being sick with worry, to now almost just being sick, not knowing what had happened.  But actions spoke louder than his thoughts as he found his voice again, yelling in a panic, “Banner, go get the gurney!  We need it ASAP.”

Steve staggered through the hallway as Tony, then Maria, and then Sam each lowered their guns.  “Oh my god,” Maria gasped. 

Bucky followed him looking frozen in fear but yelled at Banner again, “Bruce.  Gurney.  We need it now!”

Steve yelled at Barton, “Goddamnit Clint, I told you to stay calm.  Put your gun down right now.  Natasha doesn’t have time for this.”  A little water was added to the billowing tempers in the room, if only temporarily…Because everyone had similar expressions of absolute horror when they took in Clint…then Steve…and then Natasha. 

“Natasha?”  Two voices…that were terrified and shocked, rang through the air.  Loki and Wanda cried out her name, running over immediately as Steve made his way onto the floor. 

The dangerous tension in the room had shifted immediately to a resounding feeling of dread. 

Everyone had a similar frozen look of shock and fear on their faces as they took in the site before them. 

For Steve, they’d saved Natasha from a barbaric and sadistic fate, but now his emotions were demanding their due…And honestly, he looked like he could collapse at any moment.  Tears began to leak out of his eyes as he looked back at his brother, and then over to Fury, and then down at Natasha, as he tried to wrap his head around the events of the day.  It was impossible but unavoidable. 

Steve’s voice was wavering as he lifted his eyes from Natasha’s face, “Please…Everyone, please.  I know you’re mad…livid…but it can wait.  Nat needs help.”  Steve’s voice started to crack as Clint looked at his sister again.  He lowered his gun finally as Fury’s voice came over the room, “Everyone lower your weapons…Banner?”

“Yeah, Fury, I’m here.”  Bruce came running from the back hallway.  He’d ran past the lab and the interrogation rooms into the far corridor to where the medical unit was, and brought one of the gurney’s back with him, as he wheeled it frantically towards Steve.  

Steve took a deep breath, “Fury, is it only you here on this floor?  We had to knock out the cameras because we didn’t want to risk anyone else seeing us.” 

“Yes Rogers,  _what_  in the hell is going on?” 

“Later, Fury.  I just…please.  Please,  _Nick_ …help her first.”  There wasn’t time for this now. 

So, if the desperation behind Steve’s shaken look, closed eyes, or trembling voice wasn’t loud enough for them to realize…Then the fact that he was pleading with his boss, by using his first name in front of them was deafening, showing truly how panicked Steve was. 

Bruce reached Steve with the hospital bed on wheels and soon matched everyone else’s expressions as he took in not only Steve and Clint’s appearance but Natasha’s.    

She was covered 90 percent by the blanket except for her hands and her head, which had the mask and blood on it from her coughing.  Bruce immediately went to help Steve, but Steve’s protective instinct kicked in, and he tightened his hold around her. 

“Steve, listen to me.  You know why you came here…to get her help.  But you’re going to have to put her down…And let go of her in order to do that.”  Bruce’s voice was calm, trying to get through to him.  Clint put his hand on Steve’s shoulder, nudging him forward. 

Steve looked at Natasha’s face as he laid her gently on the bed…and then he immediately began to shake as he stepped back and took in her appearance. 

Yeah…his emotions were coming due.  Denial and adrenaline were washing away rapidly as everything started to rush at him.  He was vulnerable in his state of mind now, and he was raw with feeling exposed.  Both him and Clint stepped toward the bed to hold onto Natasha’s hands. 

The whole scene was…unsettling. 

Everyone was disturbed by the site, but also  _completely_  thrown by Steve’s behavior.  No one knew what happened…yet somehow, they all knew that whatever  _did happen_ , was far worse than whatever their imaginations were conjuring up.  Wanda and Loki, with matching petrified looks on their faces, stood behind Bucky, who was right behind Steve.  Questions ran rampant in their brains, but no one knew what to say or do right now. 

Neither did Bruce, honestly.  And he was a medical professional who helped FBI agents psychologically…but he did know that yelling wasn’t going to help anyone right now.  He was gentle as he grabbed Steve and Clint’s hands, causing them to flinch at the contact. 

“Guys…I just…I need to look at her, so you have to move your hands, so I can lift the blanket.” 

They did as he said, almost robotically, and moved their hands to the railing.  Wanda moved to stand beside Bucky.  She was crying silently as she reached down to grab his hand, which had been clenched in a fist for several minutes now.  He wouldn’t…or couldn’t…stop staring at Steve.

Bruce grabbed his stethoscope and listened to her labored breathing over the blanket, for a few seconds.  He tried to hide his worried expression.  He really did.  But just like everyone else, the day had been exhausting and tiring, and even he wasn’t able to hide how gravely concerned he was right now.  This was a situation that he’d never encountered before.  None of them had.  How could they have?

Bruce went to lift the blanket, but Steve immediately grabbed his hand, pleading with him with the same quiver in his voice from before, “It’s bad Bruce…really bad.  She’s going to need medical help right now, so don’t tell me to take her to the hospital.  This is the only place we could trust…Please.” 

Bruce sighed, giving Steve a kind smile, “Steve.  Let go of my hand, so I can help…okay?” 

Banner knew it was bad.  He could tell from her gaunt face, and the blue tips of her dirty fingers, and the rope burns on her wrists that it was going to be  _worse_ than he was thinking.  But when he removed the blanket and looked at her body underneath, even he couldn’t stop himself from letting out a small gasp.

And he wasn’t the only one.  The room was filled with audible sighs and breaths and gasps.  Loki’s eyes immediately welled up as Wanda squeezed Bucky’s hands tight as she started to shake.  Bucky  _finally_  looked away from Steve for a second to stare at Natasha’s body, and it only made him feel nauseous. 

Questions were spinning in everyone’s head as the amount of anxiety in the room was profound.

Bruce composed himself and took a deep breath, “Who here has any experience with first aid or helping wounded people…Who knows they can keep their hands steady?”

Steve was about to speak up before Banner looked up and down at both him and Clint now, “Rogers, you and Clint have gotten her this far, but you both look like hell and are in need of medical attention yourself.  You did a great job with the IV, but there’s no way I’m letting you in that medical unit with me.”

Steve wanted to argue, but part of him knew Banner was right.  Rhodey spoke up, “Bruce, I think I can help.  What do you need?”  Banner answered, “Okay Rhodey, you’re going to wheel her back to Med Bay 1.  I’m going to let you take her because I need to make a call.”

Clint’s eyes shot up, “No.  You can’t take her anywhere, Banner.” 

Bruce sighed heavily, “Steve.  Clint.  She’s not going anywhere.  But this…”  He pointed to Natasha on the bed, “Is way above what I am comfortable doing.  It’s well above some extensive first aid and stitches.  I need to call someone I trust.  Someone who we can  _all_  trust to stay quiet.  Believe me, you’re going to want someone else doing surgery.”

“Surgery?” Clint was surprised that Bruce would know she needed it already.  Bruce nodded, “I haven’t done an X-Ray, but by her breathing and the blood, and her weakened state, I can tell she has a collapsed lung.  She’s going to need surgery on that for sure.  And…I  _can’t_  do that, guys…Not on my own, at least.  So, the sooner you let me go make a call, the sooner we can get her prepped.”

Clint and Steve looked at each other nervously before nodding.  “Okay, I’ll meet you in Med Bay 1, Rhodey.  Thor, can you help him get her back there?”  Glad to have a task assigned and not have to stand around in their emotions, Thor happily agreed as Rhodey and he wheeled her away. 

Clint and Steve automatically started following, but Fury, Stark, Bucky, and Sam closed ranks, surrounding them.  They were concerned and worried as hell, but they needed to know what happened…now.

The mood shifted in the room.  Fury was no longer able to hide how pissed off he was.

Was he incredibly happy that Steve was alive?  Yes, of course.  But he could get to that later.  Steve  _was_  alive, so that allowed other emotions to take control at the moment – anger and frustration.  So, Fury focused on how he was mad as hell at his lead agent’s irresponsible, stupid, reckless, careless, and every other adjective’s behavior. 

“Rogers, you’re going to need to talk before I let you down that hallway to watch Natasha.  She’s safe.  That’s why you brought her here, right?  So, trust Bruce and Rhodey and Thor…Now, you answer me.  What the fuck is going on?”

Clint and Steve removed their pitiful disguises, only to reveal more of their own battered faces and blood-soaked shirts.  Bucky felt a pang in his heart and a lurch in his stomach as he looked down at his brother’s leg, noticing how much blood was on his pants, “Steve, what the hell happened to the two of you?”

Clint didn’t know how Steve wanted to handle the questions in the room towards them, and he was only going to get pissed off from everyone else’s accusatory stares at the moment, so he cleared his throat and looked at the ground.  

Steve turned around and looked at Bucky, and it hit him.  He’d been so caught up and running ragged for the last six hours, that he only now…finally realized how close he’d come to not only losing Natasha, but also never seeing his brother again.  Wanda slipped away from her husband and stepped back towards Loki as Bucky finally pulled Steve into a desperate hug.  The same emotions that Clint had towards Natasha, Bucky felt towards Steve right now. 

Everyone had been waiting for six long hours, but they were going to have to wait a little longer.  Because before Bucky could yell at his stupid ass brother, or before Fury could force Steve to talk, Bruce came back out of his office, “I made the call.  Thor’s going to go down to the ramp to let him inside.”  Before Clint or Steve could ask who he called, Bruce was talking again, “Steve, I need to ask a few questions.”

Stark and Fury exhaled.  They knew that Bruce’s questions needed answered first, but it didn’t mean they weren’t frustrated at the delay to their own questions and much needed answers.

“I need to know what you know about her condition.  Anything that might help us…Like what you gave her to knock her out.”  This was easier to talk about.  In part because, Steve didn’t have to address his guilt and denial for all of his actions over the last four years that he’d kept from his team…that he’d kept from Bucky.  And if he was going back four years, he might as well go back…all the way to 12 years ago.  Because that was when he first started keeping secrets for Natasha.   

Clint handed Banner the medical bag in case he needed to look through it as Steve spoke, “The IV is your general saline liquid and nutrients.  We had to give her two doses of liquid Lorazepam.  The first was about two and a half hours ago.  The last was 30 minutes ago.  She was fighting too hard against us, Bruce, so we had to calm her down.”

Bruce took in everyone’s expressions, and could feel the stiff air in the room.  His fellow agents were silently screaming at him for delaying their answers.  But Natasha’s medical condition took first priority.  Fury knew it too as he nodded at Bruce to continue, “What else can you tell me, Steve?  Anything might help.” 

Triage.  Focus.  Breathe.  

Steve cleared his throat, trying to hide his emotions, but it was no use.  The man was a  _wreck_.  He looked like it, felt like it, and sounded like it as he spoke through a cracked voice, “She was tied up, hanging on the rafters in a cabin…at a campground that we had met at two years ago.  It was one from Bucky’s and my childhood.”

Looking back at his brother, Steve saw a few recognizable emotions flash across Bucky’s face.  Confusion.  Clarity.  Anger.  Pain.  He could tell that Bucky was starting to put together a puzzle in his head.  A puzzle that would bring to light just how much Steve had kept from his brother.  But Steve would have to deal with it later.  Questions were on the tips of everyone’s tongues as the tension became palpable in the room.

“She was blindfolded when I found her hanging there.  I saw electrical burns on her thigh; there are faint slash marks and bruises all over her.  I was worried she might have a punctured or collapsed lung from the sound of her breathing, but I wasn’t sure until you said it.  I think she probably has some broken ribs too.  She’s incredibly malnourished…and she has a severe dislocation in her shoulder.  I don’t know what else happened to her though.  And Bruce?  She kept trying to scratch and claw at her skin…on her neck, her stomach, her arms…she wouldn’t stop until we drugged her again.”

That shut the silent demand for answers right up.  Maria, Loki…and pretty much everyone stared at Steve with open mouths or wide eyes, horrified by his words.  Bruce read the room’s teetering emotional state and went against his boss, “Good Steve.  That’s good.  You and Clint did what you could, and you did a great job with what you had…I can’t even imagine…”

He cleared his throat and looked at Fury, “I know I’m stepping in the middle of a much-needed question and answer session here, but I think Steve and Clint would be better able to respond if they could actually keep Natasha in their sight.  Not to mention they both  _really_  should receive a little medical attention of their own.  No offense Steve, but you look like you’re not too far from death’s doorstep right now.”

The joke fell flat, but Fury listened to Bruce’s words.  They all wanted answers.  They needed answers, but Bruce was right.  Clint and Steve looked like  _absolute_  shit.  And Steve in particular had been stabbed and cut up, and at the very least needed a tetanus shot and some antibiotics in his system immediately to prevent infection.

Fury relented and spoke to everyone, but stared right at Stark, knowing he was the one most likely to dissent.  “Bruce is right.  Let’s all move to Med Bay 2, where Rogers and Clint can get some needed aid, and can get cleaned up…and then they can answer our questions.  Before we do that though, we’ll need your gun, Clint.”  Clint looked up at Fury, and then to Steve.  He was on edge and nervous about this, but he meant what he said earlier – he trusted Steve by coming here.  So reluctantly, he turned over the gun to Fury. 

Before they actually started to move, the elevator dinged again, making everyone turn immediately towards the door.  Thor walked back into the room, “Banner, your…guests have arrived.”

Guests. 

Bruce had only called  _one_  person in.  He looked around the corner and was about to make an introduction, but was cut off by a tall man with dark hair, who walked with a sense of arrogance, “Banner, I was wondering when you’d pull me in on some governmental hijinks project.  You finally have someone injured that your paygrade doesn’t cover?  Well, don’t worry.  You called the right Doctor for the job.”  He looked toward the room and announced his presence.  Yes…announced. 

“Dr. Stephen Strange.  I’d say it’s nice to meet you all, but none of you look the least bit happy or excited right now.  Don’t worry though, Dr. Banner is smart to recognize his limitations and call in a surgeon he knows can keep quiet.”

Well, that left a bad taste in everyone’s mouth, “Dr.…Strange, is it?”  Tony sarcastically said, “I’ll just let you know that it’s a little late for a Doctor’s god complex right now.  Spare us.”  The biggest egos in the room hadn’t even been introduced formally, and they were already clashing.

Strange didn’t even look at Tony, “Surgeon.  Not just a doctor.   _Surgeon_ …which is what Banner said you desperately needed.”  Bruce sighed, “Stephen, can we save the accolades for after the procedure?  Who did you bring with you?  I told you, you absolutely cannot tell anyone about any of this.”

Strange waved Bruce off, “I know what you said, and I only work with people that I trust.  Especially procedures that are…off the books.  Everyone, this is my nurse.  You can trust her to stay quiet about this group tête-à-tête.  She’s my most trusted surgical nurse and has worked with me for years.  Her name is Laura.”  The woman in navy scrubs was petite with long brown hair, and she had a natural beauty to her.  She looked…kind. 

Yes, if one word could summarize her, Laura looked kind.  She nervously glanced around the room before her eyes landed on the two wounded men in front of her.  Concern washed over her face as she took in Steve’s body and wounds…And then her eyes moved over to the man staring at her.  She was looking right at Clint.

* * *

**_12 Years Ago –_ **

_Four days of misery, a class full of trainees, and two couples who’d been fighting all week long._

_Sounds like a perfect afternoon for a driving test, right?_

_There were four final driving tests.  It was simple…at least on paper._

_First were time trials on the road track.  Second was an obstacle course.  Third, was passing an off-road driving course.  And fourth was the curve ball.  The improv scenario that Fury made up on the spot for each duo.  It was different for every team.  That’s all the information anyone was given at the start of this week.  Simple, my ass.  The less information they had, the worse it would be – that much they had figured out from Fury and his mind games._

_Even though everyone was wearing protective gear, the FBI had EMT’s, Paramedics, and an Ambulance and Fire Truck ready to go in case of emergency.  Fury had seen it all, and unfortunately, some trainees in the past had been severely hurt._

_The trainees all had their vests and helmets on.  Steve would be lying to himself, if he didn’t admit that he found Natasha incredibly adorable in her little black helmet and vest, “You gonna be able to keep your eyes on the road while you’re driving, Rogers?”_

_It was the first comment since their pairings were announced.  He treaded carefully, not wanting to fall into any further of a hole right now, “Yeah Romanoff.  My eyes will stay up just fine.  Let’s just focus and get through today.”_

_“Is that an order?”_

_Prickly and stubborn as ever.  Four days running now._

_She’d meant the first comment to be kind of flirty, joking.  Normal.  But the edge she was on, from everything that had her off her game this week, caused her to twist Steve’s answer in her head, and throw it back at him.  Steve didn’t take the bait though._

_They were up first for time trials._

_Natasha thought back to the first day of training, with all of their initial physical fitness testing.  Everyone was so light and carefree, but now, it was different.  There were all a little temperamental, because there was so much more at stake._

_“Who’s driving first?”  Steve was going to let Natasha, but she spoke up, “Rogers.”_

_The intricate track was paved and had multiple routes, turns, and curves that drivers could navigate through.  It looked like a maze from above.  There were electronic timing mats on the outside track (1.1 miles in total distance) that would automatically record the vehicle’s times on each turn._

_The SUV was filled with an awkward tension as Natasha gripped her thighs after buckling in.  ‘Just get through the afternoon,’ Rogers told himself, as he tried to focus._

_He put the manual vehicle into gear, and started off as fast as he was comfortable.  83 miles per hour, for a time of 47.71 seconds.  They switched and didn’t say a word, but Natasha’s jaw clenched as she floored the vehicle.  Steve couldn’t help but notice that she was purposefully trying to beat his time._

_Day one of training, he thought her relentless competitiveness was cute and a turn on.  But right now, Steve’s nostrils flared from being pissed off…because Natasha wasn’t talking to him, and it was feeding into this whole fucking mess of a situation._

_“Jesus,” Steve let out as they crossed the finish line and got the vehicle back into the pit area to park.  Natasha clocked a time of 42.13 seconds.  She was going 94 miles per hour.  She felt good for only a second though because Steve was on her, “Did you prove your point, Romanoff?”  Her jaw was still clenched._

_They switched to the manual car, and the tension grew.  Manual shifting on such a small track could be tricky.  Steve knew Natasha didn’t have as much experience with driving stick shifts, so he was revving the engine and warming it up as he yelled over it at her._

_“Just make sure you rev the engine in neutral up to about 1500 RPM, before you take off.  It’ll prep the motor.  And don’t floor it right away, until you’re at least in third.  I don’t want you blowing a gasket or damaging the transmission.”_

_He saw her huff out a breath.  Maybe he shouldn’t have chosen **that**  time when the engine was loud to yell directions at her, because it just pissed her off, “Thanks Cap, but I don’t think I need a lesson one minute before I am driving.”_

_Alright.  Prickly and still acting like a child…and now Steve was pissed off too.  A verbal tap turned into a nudge, and now was a firm push.  If this was going to be how it was, maybe he was going to push back a little too.  “Well, maybe if you would’ve let me help you earlier this week, I wouldn’t be trying to now!”_

_And Steve took off, smoothly shifting up into first, then easing into second.  He seamlessly moved his left and right foot between the clutch, brake, and gas, and got the car into fifth gear flawlessly before he crossed the mat.  He was at 83 mph for most of the track, but with manual it took a little longer to get going, so his time was a little slower – 47.80 seconds._

_They switched and Natasha brushed by his shoulder harshly on the pass.  He wanted to grab her, but he just groaned and got into the car._

_Maybe all of Natasha’s worry and anxiety and missing Steve was causing her to doubt herself.  Or maybe…just maybe it was because she was acting petty and stupid, and wanted nothing more than to prove Steve wrong from his comment from a minute ago.  Whatever.  She didn’t need his help, and she would show him._

_She revved the engine alright.  She did it longer than Steve, and then took off with a bang.  She shifted up into first, but got greedy, and floored the gas too soon.  The engine became too loud and made her lose focus on her feet, and she released the clutch too quick.  The engine stopped, jerking both of them forward, “Mother.  Fucker.”  The words were out of her mouth as quickly as Steve said, “Take a breath, Natasha.”_

_“I don’t want to hear it.”_

_Natasha got it going just as quick and didn’t make a mistake this time around.  The error only cost her a few seconds.  She got the car up to 86 mph in the remaining distance, and had a time of 49.27 seconds.  The time was fine, but she wasn’t.  She looked over at Steve, and he was trying his best to hide his grin.  His eyes behind his aviators were silently but **obviously**  saying, ‘I tried to tell you.’_

_“I swear to god, Steve.  If you say one word…”  He cut her off though, “Why would I have anything to say, Natasha.  You made it very clear, you don’t want or need my help.”_

_They went and stood apart from each other as everyone else completed their trials.  You could easily fit more than the 1.1 miles of track between the emotional distance they were displaying.  Everyone else was very aware by now of what was going on between them, (and also between Wanda and Bucky) and it only added to everyone’s stress._

_But surprisingly, everyone else’s time trials went okay.  Bucky and Wanda didn’t fight, but they didn’t speak either.  Wanda had the slowest time at 50.77 seconds, but she was just happy that she did okay in both manual and automatic.  Tony had the fastest time, clocking in at 41.20 and made it **very**  known how happy he was to finally be on top of the food chain for a skill, “Don’t worry. I will be able to give you all lessons, but I’ll warn you, I can’t teach what is inside me.”_

_The obstacle course was next._

_Weaving in and out of the maze inside of the outside track, the trainees had to avoid traffic cones, and other obstacles like nail mats and oil slicks, and they had to maneuver into a tight parking space at the end.  You also had to pull the emergency brake and show that you could handle the torque created from it._

_Loki hit a few traffic cones, and Bruce and Rhodey both barely hit a nail strip, but everyone in their group got through that stage okay…ability wise at least.  Their mental conditions were a little on the wary side._

_Wanda struggled with the momentum after pulling her emergency brake, going 50 mph and almost spun the car into the side of the pitstop.  Bucky tried to help which only caused her to snap at him.  She did follow his directions and was able to put the car back into the correct placement…But at the end, they were both more upset than when they started._

_Steve and Natasha…were completely silent during their obstacle run.  Steve weaved and slid and avoided where he needed, ending with a flawless parking position after the emergency brake was pulled._

_Natasha was annoyed because the grin on his face was pissing her off…but turning her on even more.  She’d been forced to be around him for a couple of hours now, and his presence was wearing on her.  The man looked damn good in a set of aviators, okay?  And he was being tough and brash right now.  And hell, all the mental pushing and verbal shoving they’d been doing was tantalizing, leaving them both feeling wound up tight._

_And then there was that cocky smirk of his.  Damn.  Natasha was determined to show him she could move with just as much ease.  Two minutes later, Steve was grunting and trying to hold back any actual words when she harshly swerved away from a traffic cone and a mat, causing his shoulder to get thrown into the door.  He kept quiet until she was about to pull the E-brake too soon, and he reached down to the center counsel, gripping her hand to keep it in place, “Wait.”_

_“Don’t tell me…”_

_“Goddamnit Natasha, wait until the final turn to pull it.  Then whip the wheel to the left.”_

_Scowling and pouting her lip…she did as he said, and the car ended up in the correct position as they came to a halt.  Natasha pulled her hand away from his and gripped the wheel tight.  Another grumble from him as she exhaled a heavy breath.  The tension in the car was so thick with their stubbornness, and brewing yearning for each other.  But stubbornness won the round._

_Natasha refused to say thanks.  Steve didn’t tell her good job.  She was itchy with irritation.  He was ready to explode because he was sick of this.  And whether they were more ready to yell and scream at each other, or rip each other’s clothes off, was anybody’s guess at this point._

_One thing was made crystal clear between the two couples - their whole separate plans of collapsing into an apology right after this, was not looking even remotely possible at the moment._

_“I guess those four won’t be teaching driver's education anytime soon,” Maria remarked.  Tony and Loki laughed at her, but she meant it more as commentary than anything._

* * *

_Off-roading was up next._

_The class was bussed, five miles away to an excavated, dirt and field area.  The instructors had 4x4 jeeps that were open on the tops and sides, waiting for the teams._

_Wanda and Bucky had to go first this time.  The trainees had to prove their ability to handle Level-B road conditions and foreign terrains.  Which meant controlling the vehicle on bumpy paths, soft dirt and gravel, and over fallen trees or branches.  Wanda was squinting her eyes at the course, which really looked like a large acreage of barren landscape._

_Bumpy roads?  Bullshit.  Bumpy roads meant speed bumps or potholes.  All Wanda saw were dips and holes large enough to make a person feel like they were on a bucking bronco if they hit hard enough._

_Bucky could tell Wanda was more nervous than the last two exercises, so he went first.  He hit a tree root and splashed water into the open jeep, causing them to get sprayed with muddy water, but overall, he drove for 10 minutes until the instructors told him he was done._

_“Wanda, you gotta just breathe and stay calm.  If you tighten up, you’ll start to jerk the jeep around and that’s when bigger mistakes happen…These things can tip easily.”  He was speaking to her as calmly as he could, and he thought maybe…just maybe, there was a breakthrough, because she closed her eyes and did breathe, and nodded her head._

_But only a couple of minutes later, and her nerves had gotten the best of her.  The instructors had her go on a different path than Bucky, and she hit a couple of large dips in the road at a fast speed, causing her head to hit the sidebar._

_Bucky was worried about her and wanted to ask if she was okay, but she was veering to the left too far… “Wanda, turn right, you’re going to go off the road!”_

_She did, and over corrected, “Don’t yell at me, James!”  The car started spinning in the dirt, “I’m not yelling, I’m helping, Wanda.  You gotta counteract the spinning…turn left!”_

_She yanked the wheel left, as hard as she could, as a big cloud of dirt rose in the air, they came to a commanding stop.  She was breathing hard, and he was gripping his side bar and her shoulder, very hard, “Wanda…are you okay?”_

_She wasn’t._

_She was at her breaking point with the twisted nerves from today and being upset about her stupid fighting with her boyfriend.  But she had to put the jeep back into gear and finish her drive, and if she broke down now, she wouldn’t be able to stop.  “Just…don’t talk to me, James.  You’re making it worse.”_

_She didn’t mean it._

_But Bucky didn’t know what to do, so he stayed silent as she moved slowly down the rest of her path and made it back to the start.  She walked away from him as he tried to ask again, if she was okay.  She left him spinning in his thoughts as fast as the jeep’s wheels had spun in the dirt._

_He wasn’t just concerned about her well-being…He was deep diving, into a pit of worry, thinking the worst…about the possibility of her not passing.  Bucky groaned.  He was determined to help her whether she wanted it or not.  Someway, somehow, he was going to help._

_The rest of the group took their turns and it was…eventful._

_Rhodey got hung up on a thick tree branch.  Thor hit a couple of hard bumps, and Loki and Tony’s egos had gotten the better of them.  Loki did better than expected on his run, which irritated Tony, causing him to go faster than he should have, and he literally tilted the Jeep up, onto two wheels as they came around their last turn.  “You are positively insane in a vehicle, Stark.”  Loki joked, but they survived._

_And that left Steve and Natasha.  With the tension still brewing from him grabbing her hand during the obstacle course, Steve didn’t even ask if she wanted to go first this time.  He went first last time, and it went awful, so he volunteered her, “Romanoff is going first, Coulson.”_

_“Don’t speak for me, Rogers.  You’re not giving the orders here.”_

_Coulson wanted to say something, but knew better, so he just handed the keys to Natasha._

_She got through the route, but she was agitated and reckless the entire time.  She purposefully hit four separate mud puddles, covering both of them entirely in dirty water as Steve yelled at her a little louder each time.  And each time, she went a little faster._

_She floored the gas on a big dip, causing them both to lurch forward.  Steve reached his arm across, bracing it instinctively against her chest in a protective manner, “Get your hands off my breasts, Rogers.”  Another clawing itch that didn’t feel satisfying at all.  He immediately snapped back at her, “Well it’s not like I’ve gotten to feel them all week with how you’ve been acting.”_

_She glared at him and gritted through her teeth, whipping the Jeep in the opposite direction of a branch causing Steve to brace the same arm against the dashboard now.  “Fuck, Natasha…you got it.  I won’t touch you.”  She finished, and they switched spots and a lot of the class had gathered around to watch._

_“Looking good guys!” Tony yelled out.  They didn’t…they looked filthy because they were.  They were **covered**  in drying, muddy water all over their clothes and skin.  They felt even dirtier, with the dark look behind their sunglasses as Natasha dropped the keys in Steve’s hands, “What’s the matter, Rogers.  Was that too much excitement for you?”_

_Yeah it was.  She was trying to get under his skin, and it was working._

_Steve was off his game during his turn, hitting two large holes and a tree branch, and he almost spun out in a soft dirt patch.  But he made it through.  When he put the jeep in park, Natasha went to get out, but he reached over and put his arm across her chest again.  This time it wasn’t out of instinct.  It was **definitely**  on purpose. _

_She was about to make some sarcastic and snarky quip back at him, but he shut her up with his low and gruff voice._

_“You and I…are going to knock this shit off…And we are going to have a talk after this…Got it, Natasha?”_

_She hated how his gravelly tone was hitting her where she was already feeling warm.  She looked down at his arm, right above her breasts, and couldn’t stop herself from breathing a little harder.  Damn again._

_Natasha looked over at Steve.  He was staring as intensely at her as she was at him.  They might as well have not been wearing sunglasses at the moment, because she felt like she could see right through them.  Her throat tightened as her neck became warm.  If they weren’t fighting, she would have already crawled into his lap by now._

_Seconds ticked by, and they both felt like they were in that familiar fog, that they so often got lost in.  She could see the outline of his lashes behind the lenses.  And she could tell by the fluttering movement, that he kept shifting his gaze down at her chest, and then up to her lips, and back down again.  They were dirty on the outside, and on the inside?  Natasha could tell by the way Steve’s jaw was twitching…that he wanted her.  The push of their stubborn fight and pull of their unbridled thoughts shrouded the vehicle in pent up sexual tension._

_It was exhilarating._

_And for a moment…just a moment, Natasha opened her mouth and was almost tempted to not have a quick retort come out…Almost._

_But Fury’s voice rang through the loudspeaker, “Romanoff.  Rogers.  Quit having a staring contest and get back to the damn bus!”  Laughter and a couple of whistles were heard next, and the moment was gone._

_It was almost, but not enough.  Natasha looked away and bit her lip.  No.  Steve was ordering her around still…and…and…She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.  Because that’s what today was about right?  Not proving your ability or skillset.  But proving that you were 100 percent right.  That you were going to best the person you loved more than anything, because you were too tired and scared of the future, and too proud to admit you were sorry._

_Yup, pretty much._

_“Oh fine, Rogers.  We’ll talk.  But that’s all we’ll be doing.”  Stubborn meet stupid.  They had met, and were in a tangled relationship all week long, and they needed to officially say goodbye to one another._

_Natasha was positively driving Steve crazy as she got out of the Jeep with water dripping off of her clothes.  She took her helmet off, and he thought he was going to lose it for a bit.  Steve was all the things Natasha was being, but honestly, he was embarrassed that she’d gotten to him on the drive.  And he was even more ashamed that their friends all witnessed the airing of their dirty laundry…and quite bluntly, their eye fucking a moment ago._

_And they had to face those same friends as they stepped back on the bus, completely covered in dirt and filth.  Whether it was filth of clothes and skin, or filth of mind and perverted thoughts…well, again it was anyone’s guess at this point._

_Bucky was the only one that was brave enough to say anything to Steve on the bus ride back to Quantico, “Man, I thought I had it rough with Wanda…But you…that looked like it was about as fun as that night we had to stay in that sheep farm outside of Kabul.”_

_Steve actually chuckled at the memory, but turned to his brother quickly, sighing with squinted eyes, feeling defeated.  He wiped a little sweat and mud from his face, “Well today went to hell in a handbasket, didn’t it?”_

* * *

_The bus was back at TEVOC, and the last exercise was up._

_The wildcard.  The improvisational driving.  No one knew what Fury had in store for their tests, and it was causing them all to feel anxious._

_The pairs started.  A couple of early groups had simple problems – a flat tire, an engine billowing with smoke in an older vehicle, running out of gas…But the end goal was simple - utilize the resources around you and at your disposal to make it five times around the track.  But you had to keep the same vehicle the entire time._

_Sometimes the simplest explanation was the right answer – that rule of was Occam’s Razor._

_Sometimes the simplest of tests were the hardest and had the most complexities behind them – that was rule of Fury’s Razor._

_This last test – was always one of Fury’s favorites.  He picked the wildcard for each team.  It was his own personal sliding scale.  Today he was evaluating the trainees and determining who passed and didn’t.  But it was the mental acrobatics behind the test that he loved.  Fury wanted to see how people could handle the factors on the road that weren’t on paper…the unknown._

_Sometimes what we think and conjugate in our brains is actually worse than what we encounter.  Fear.  Overcoming it.  Fury wanted and needed to see the individuals were mentally prepared enough to move on._

_“How in the hell have you gotten this far in life without knowing how to change a tire, Johnson?”  A fellow trainee was struggling with the simpler of exercises, and Fury was letting him have it._

_40 minutes passed, and a good portion of the trainees had gone.  The 11 team members Fury had been watching, plus several other impressive pairs were going during the last portion of the day.  Fury and his instructors saved the more intense scenarios for all of them because they were testing them the most._

_Tony and Loki got to choose their vehicle, and of course they went for the shiny red sports car available.  But Fury knew them well enough, and set the trap.  The car was a sitting duck.  First another instructor came up behind them with an SUV and nudged against their rear bumper.  Because of how light the car was, it kept fishtailing and spinning out, causing them to even get stuck in a mud pit in the center of the track at one point._

_On Loki’s turn, the SUV would not let up and caused them to slam into the track wall, causing their airbags to deploy, shutting the engine off.  “Well, I hope Fury doesn’t expect me to push the car around the last lap.”  Tony was ahead of him though, “I can re-work some wiring, and bypass the electronic monitoring system.  As long as you ask me nicely, Loki.”_

_“Your ego knows no boundaries, does it?”  Stark grinned at him.  Fury thought pairing the two biggest egos together might cause problems.  It did, but Stark helped Loki earlier that week at night.  And honestly, seeing how crazy Maximoff, Romanoff, Barnes and Rogers were right now, helped keep their heads grounded in the moment.  “Well, of course Tony, I bow mercilessly at your feet.  Please, good sir.  Could you spare some kindness and help me through the rest of the course?”_

_Tony laughed, “Well, now you’re just going to make me blush.”  He got the car going again a few minutes later, and they got back to the finish._

_Fury smirked at Coulson, “See.  People learn from my methods, Phil.”_

_The rest of their friends made it through without too much trouble.  A smoke bomb was thrown on the track.  Some nail strips were laid out, a transmission blew, some more severe rear-ending…but everyone seemed to make it out in one piece._

_And then there were four._

_Wanda and Bucky were up.  Wanda couldn’t stop thinking about how poorly she performed on the off-road exercise.  Bucky was driving first, but he wasn’t going to put their SUV into gear until he said **something**.  “Wanda, you are 10 times smarter than me and are so calm with everything else.  You just have to focus, and then this will all be over in about 30 minutes.” _

_That’s exactly what Wanda was afraid of.  That it would be **over**.  This whole week, she’d been scared to death that not only would she be forced to leave Bucky, but would have to leave Quantico too.  Her only hope of being in the FBI if she didn’t pass today, would be reduced to being a paper-pusher or potentially a low-level lab technician.  She wouldn’t be allowed to be on an operational field team.  And she wouldn’t be around James._

_“Don’t you think I realize that, James?  God, haven’t you been paying attention all week?  I’m scared to death because I might not be around anyone here.  I might not be here, or around you after 30 minutes.”  Her voice was shaky as she shut her eyes, and Bucky couldn’t comfort her because Fury was yelling at him to drive._

_Bucky got through a few fake explosions going off near the track in some barrels and steered through some oil slicks.  He slammed on his brakes at the other instructors who were rear-ending him, which only caused the instructors to spin into the middle of the track as he coasted to the finish line._

_Bucky was afraid that if he said anything further, it’d just make Wanda more worried and more upset.  So, he stayed quiet at first._

_And Wanda’s first lap actually went okay.  She dodged similar stunt explosions set off near her.  She ended up ramming the SUV into the side of the track wall after an instructor nudged her which caused Bucky to curse, but she made it through laps two and three okay as well._

_Lap four found her boxed in with three other SUV’s.  And that’s when the rubber met the road…literally.  Rubber bullets started flying.  The windows were bullet proof, but Wanda’s nerves weren’t.  She started shouting and overreacting with the wheel, “Why are they shooting at us, James?”_

_“Wanda, just keep your hands at ten and two!”  The firing increased and one of the vehicles side-swiped her, causing her to jerk the wheel hard to the left…right in front of an oil slick_

_The SUV was spinning faster and faster from the slick and the angle she hit it at.  Instead of riding her way through the momentum, Wanda slammed on the brakes, which caused the SUV to clash with gravity, forcing it to tip over completely to the side, with only about a quarter of a mile to go on the final lap._

_The windows had held up from the rubber bullets, but there was a large crack down the windshield that mirrored how Wanda felt – like she was about to crack.  She was dangling in her seat towards Bucky and the track, since the driver’s side was in the air._

_She was only being held in by her seat belt, and Bucky was forced into the side of the door that was laying directly against the pavement.  Bucky groaned and reached up to feel for her hands, “Wanda?  Talk to me…are you okay?”  She started panicking, craning her neck to look at Bucky pinned against the door by his seatbelt, “Oh my god, James?  James!  Did I hurt you?”_

_“No.  Wanda, I’m fine…I just,” Bucky was trying to undo his belt, but it was jammed, “Shit, I can’t get the belt undone.  Can you reach inside my pants pocket and grab my pocket knife?  You’re going to have to cut me out.”  Wanda’s belt was stuck too.  But she had enough slack and was thin enough, that she could slip out of it, “Careful, Wanda…Try to brace your feet against my seat when you get out so you don’t fall.”  She did exactly as he said.   And then with very shaky hands, she found Bucky’s pocket knife._

_“Wanda, give me your hands.”  He reached up to grab them, “It’s going to be okay, do you hear me?  But you gotta take a breath…because you’ll feel even worse if you end up cutting me instead of the seatbelt.”_

_It was a lame joke.  But it worked, and she took in some air and tried to calm down.  She cut past his shoulder first, because it was safer.  “Good job Wanda.  You’re doing great.”_

_Once the shoulder strap was free, they pulled it through his waist, and Bucky was completely out of the belt.  He stood up awkwardly as they both stood on top of his passenger door.  He pulled her into a huge hug.  Bucky kissed her forehead, but she started crying, “There’s no way he’s going to let me stay now, James.”_

_Time was ticking._

_Bucky knew this was about more than just driving skills.  All the tests meant more than just the surface exercise at this point.  And the purpose was made perfectly clear right now – it wasn’t about how swiftly or cleanly you got to the finish line.  It was about figuring it out, with your wits and strengths.  It was about pushing past your weaknesses.  It was about somehow, just getting to the finish line._

_The job.  The mission.  The goal.  The objective.  The finish line._

_It was all the same, figuratively, and Bucky knew it.  They **had**  to finish. _

_“Do you see the crack in the windshield, Wanda?  We’re going to kick through it, and crawl through the opening.  Then we’re going to get this stupid SUV tipped back over, and we’ll get it to the finish line, even if we have to push it.  Are you listening?”_

_She shook her head nervously.  But they worked together, now standing closely on Bucky’s door as they kicked.  And they kicked again…and again…Three times, until the crack splintered, causing the break-away glass to shatter.  Even though she had a helmet on, Bucky covered Wanda’s head as they crawled out of the windshield, and they worked together tirelessly to tip the SUV back over._

_Fury was impressed.  Both trainees showed resolve and determination and grit.  But Wanda couldn’t see his reaction.  She had already convinced herself that she was failing.  So, after the SUV landed with a loud thud, and luckily started up again, she drove to the finish, with Bucky in the backseat now because his door wouldn’t open.  She got out of the vehicle once again – this time through her own door, and went off to be checked out by the paramedics, under Fury’s orders.  She felt defeated._

_One team to go, “Let’s end this how we started it today.  Romanoff.  Rogers.  You’re up.  Let’s see if you can stay clean this time.”_

_Natasha looked at Wanda, concerned for her friend.  She visibly saw why Wanda was so upset, and it was easy to make the connection with where Maximoff’s fear was coming from.  But as Natasha looked at Wanda, she started tapping into her own reasons as to why she was **so upset**  this week. _

_Yes, Natasha was dead-tired.  Yes, Fury had pushed her to her limits, but she’d been pushed in **way**  worse ways throughout her entire life.  No.  What this was really about for Natasha, was the man in the driver’s seat.  She couldn’t bear the thought of not being with him. _

_And seeing Wanda possibly not passing today, triggered Natasha’s emotional awareness to that realization.  Wanda was the figurative and potential literal symbol, of all of **this,**  coming to an end soon. _

_Where would her and Steve be placed as agents if they graduated?  How could she continue to fight her handlers with her insurance plan to get her and Clint out, if she didn’t have his strength by her side?  How could Natasha work side-by-side with Steve in the field, worrying about his livelihood, when she couldn’t stand the thought of him getting hurt?_

_As Steve made his way through his five laps fairly easily, Natasha was quiet as she ashamedly thought…of how truly ridiculous and unreasonable she was this week.  There were some explosions and other cars spraying rubber bullets at them, but Steve wasn’t fazed.  By the driving at least.  God he was ready for this to be done.  The test, yes.  But more importantly, this stupid fight.  He wanted to grab her and kiss her and apologize, even though…in all honesty, Natasha had been a teensy bit more ridiculous than Steve…at least today._

_Fury had one last trick up his sleeve though, “Trainees Romanoff and Rogers.  Stop for a second before you switch and end this week.”_

_They paused, looking at each other as Fury dropped the bomb, “You’ve all been through the ringer this week.  I know.  I planned it that way.  Some of you have figured out that this isn’t just about the ability to drive and how fast and skillfully you can get somewhere.  It is about pressure and handling it, no matter what.  Some of you are excellent drivers and others of you are excellent at about every other field test we’ve thrown at you.  Rogers and Romanoff are great examples of this.  But…they’ve been fighting like cats and dogs all week.”_

_As if the embarrassment of airing their dirty laundry couldn’t get any worse…_

_“What?  You think I wouldn’t be so bold as to call you out in front of your peers?  Guess what?  In the FBI, it is your peers’ job to call you out when you’re being idiots.  You two have had a particular weakness this week, with not getting out of your own stubborn way to listen to each other.  Romanoff, you’ve been the bigger culprit of it…today at least.  So, for the last five laps, and the last driver, with the last team, there’s going to be no other gimmicks…Except that Romanoff will be blindfolded…And Rogers?  You’ll have to direct her, every step of the way.  Maybe you two will finally figure out a way to communicate with one another.”_

_The spotlight was officially off Wanda and Bucky’s whole, tipping the SUV over scenario._

_Their friends were all glued to the scene in front of them, as Natasha felt annoyed and embarrassed, finally having to cave and be forced to listen to Steve…in front of everyone.  And Steve hated all of this._

_Loki and Tony looked astonished, “Tony, I’m so glad I’m not in a relationship with you.  God knows what Fury would’ve had planned if our egos, plus our sexual feelings, were playing a factor.”  Tony laughed.  He was pretty sure Loki was joking.  Pretty sure.  “Yeah Loki…I’m glad we’re not in a relationship either.”  Oddly enough, the week had brought the ego-driven men a little closer together as friends instead of having the opposite effect._

_Natasha buckled in after Steve and waited for Coulson to come to the side of the SUV, “Do you want me or Steve to put this on, Natasha?”_

_Natasha turned her head to Phil, indicating him._

_Steve sighed and shook his head.  Natasha was going to be stubborn until the end of time.  He loved her for it, but he wanted nothing more than this whole week to be done, so they could fight and yell and scream, or whatever they needed to do, so they could finally talk about what this was really about.  Natasha was scared and **couldn’t**  admit it out loud.  Steve was scared for her.  He had been for a while now, and they just needed to quit being idiots. _

_Phil tightened the blindfold, “It’s as easy as Fury said, guys.  Five laps, no tricks.  Most of the oil has been sprayed off even.  Just five laps…but Romanoff, you’re going to have to let Steve be your eyes.”_

_“Yeah, I heard Fury…loud and clear.”_

_Phil chuckled and walked away, standing by his partner, both here at Quantico and in life.  “You think they’ll survive the next 10 minutes, Phil?”_

_“I don’t know, Melinda.  But I know we survived, at almost the same time, when we wanted to kill each other.  I have faith they’ll figure it out.  Being in a relationship in such a dangerous and high-stress field, can make things messy at first…but it’s worth it.”  May smiled back at him, “Yeah.  It was…and is worth it.”_

_“Well, you’re finally going to get what you wanted, Steve.  You get to order me around.”  Steve blew out a breath and put his hand over hers on the wheel, “Damn it, Nat. **None**  of this is what I wanted.  And I don’t want to order you around.  But you gotta let me help right now.  You wouldn’t even talk to me all week, so yeah.  Maybe I’m a little glad that Fury’s finally making you listen.”_

_Dig a little harder and a little deeper.  Scratch and itch.  Stubbornness and stupidity.  Feeding those beasts only made it worse._

_But Fury yelled over both of them before anything else could be said, “Time to go, Romanoff.  Get moving.  And you’re not going to do any driving for her, Rogers.”_

_“This is crazy,” Sam said, watching with his friends.  Maria nodded in agreement with wide-eyes, “What about their relationship **isn’t**  crazy?”_

_Natasha took a breath and squeezed the wheel tight as she put it into drive.  Steve pulled his hands back, clenching them in his own lap, “Straight for five seconds, Natasha…Then start turning left…good, that’s good.  Too far left.”_

_She huffed out another breath of frustration as she listened to him and started going a little faster, “Keep your hands where they are, Nat.  Last turn.  Okay, one lap down.  Soon, you won’t have to be around me anymore today.”_

_“Steve, that’s not what I…”_

_Her words were cut off, “Nat, you’re drifting right!  Don’t hit the wall.”_

_She overcorrected left and felt the edge of the track under the rumble of her tires and got it back on the road after a few seconds.  Reluctantly, she stayed quiet through the end of her second lap.  “Good job.  You’re doing good.  Steady.  Just keep going, straight ahead for another couple seconds.”  Before they knew it, three laps were down._

_Two to go until she could take this stupid mask off.  “Son of a bitch.”  The same line was muttered by several of their friends.  “What is it, Steve?”_

_“Fury had his guys put down a couple of mats and cones and oil for the last two laps…Take a breath, it’s nothing you can’t handle.”  No gimmicks my ass._

_“Can I just stay to the outside wall?  Where did he put the crap?”_

_“Don’t go to the outside, you’ll drift into the wall.  You’re naturally fading right.”_

_“Don’t tell me what I’m naturally doing.”_

_“Left, Nat.  Left!”  She hit a cone and felt the vehicle’s front and rear tires run over it, jostling her and Steve around.  She was flustered, and turned too hard to the left and started going into the grass inside the track.  “Nat, you’re off the road.”_

_“No shit, Steve.  Surprise, I can’t see.  But I can tell what driving on grass feels like.”  Her heart was racing, and her eyes were wide-open, even though she couldn’t see a damn thing behind the blindfold._

_She felt the pavement underneath the tires again as she went around the second turn and felt oil as the SUV started fishtailing.  “Keep it straight, don’t brake and **don’t**  try to correct.  Let the tires breathe for a second…Let the oil come off.”  She was breathing rapidly as her knuckles turned white on the wheel.  “Okay, Natasha.  Listen to me.  The mats ahead, there’s three of them with nail strips on them.  The pattern is left, left, right.  So, stay to the right, then veer left.”_

_She went right, and faded into wall, scraping the side of the vehicle and knocking the side mirror off, “Fuck, Steve.  I’m…are you okay?”_

_“Go left first, Nat.  Then you can apologize.”_

_“I wasn’t going to apologize!”_

_“No, why would I expect you ever to swallow your pride and do that?  Now turn left…Okay, you just passed the homestretch.  Last lap.”_

_Natasha avoided the cones this time, hit the oil slick again and fishtailed a little into the grass, but quickly recovered, and avoided all three nail strips again.  All in all, she was **really,** really impressive.  But Steve and Natasha sat silently as Steve tugged her blindfold down.  She was still gripping the wheel. _

_Steve groaned and shook his head, “Don’t think you’re getting out of talking with me…just because Fury put us through hell today.  We.  Are.  Talking…Soon.”  Steve got out of the vehicle, leaving Natasha with her own thoughts.  Was she going to be able to actually swallow her pride?_

* * *

_Natasha exited, and got some smacks on the shoulders from her friends, but went and sat by Wanda as they both wallowed in their self-pity and misery.  Natasha grabbed Wanda’s hand, “Take a breath, Wanda.  Fury hasn’t said anything to anyone yet.”_

_They waited._

_For 30 agonizing minutes, they waited for Fury to discuss his decisions with the other instructors.  And then Wanda and Natasha watched as Bucky marched over to Fury.  He was extremely animated as he talked to him for a couple of minutes.  They couldn’t hear him, but Wanda’s brow furrowed, concerned over what Bucky’s discussion with him was about._

_Fury’s mind was made up as Coulson and May went to grab several of the classmates, all outside of the group of 11, to bring over to Fury.  There were seven trainees that didn’t make it, and were removed from the program.  They were offered a chance to go into analyst training, where they could work as a general office worker or a lower level employee, but their hopes of becoming a field agent, or working with a field team were over.  Just like that._

_Everyone else was dismissed, except the 11 friends.  They were held back by Fury, Coulson, and May._

_Wanda chewed on her lip, still not fully relieved and believing that she’d made it through the day and week.  May’s voice broke her chain of thought, “The 11 of you have something special.  Don’t mistake that as being special enough to make it until the end.  You still have **a lot**  to prove.”_

_Fury took over, “A lot.  Repeat that. **A lot**  to prove.  With all of your talent and gifts…and chemistry as a team, you’re all still very young and naïve, and let your emotions get the better of you.  But good job today.  All of you.  Now rest up, because next week is going to be here soon, and it’s going to get worse.  I designed it that way…in case you didn’t notice.”  Him and his mind games.  Fury’s secrets had secrets. _

_Something clicked in Wanda as most of her friends started walking back towards Quantico’s campus.  Bucky was talking to Fury about her.  He begged him, to let her stay.  No.  If she didn’t earn this, she wasn’t going to take someone else’s spot or be given a special exception._

_She marched over to Bucky with Natasha right behind her, “James Barnes, I have one question for you, and you had better be honest with me.”_

_Steve and Bucky turned around, looking more surprised than they even thought possible with the week they’d had, “Wanda, wha?”  But she interrupted him, “You answer me.  Were you talking to Fury about me?  Were you trying to get him to let me stay?”_

_“Come on, Wanda.  Don’t do this now.  We were actually a little better at the end of the last test.”  It was all the answer she needed as Wanda started to briskly walk away from him.  Natasha went after her as Bucky followed and then Steve._

* * *

_And that was how this mess and hell of a week came full-circle, right back to where the story started._

_Bucky caught up and was yelling after her, but Wanda just yelled over her shoulder, “James, you stay away from me right now!”_

_Wanda’s voice rang through the group of friends as she physically parted the way between them.  They all watched her storm through as Bucky tried to follow her, “Aw come on, Wanda.  Enough is enough.  Can we please just talk?  Look, I’m…I’m really sorry!”_

_Bucky tried to follow, but Natasha stepped in front of him, “Not so fast there, Barnes.  You need to let her cool off.”_

_“Natasha, I’m going to tell you the same thing you told me at the beginning of all of this…stop it…and quit ordering people around.”_

_That wasn’t Bucky’s voice…It was Steve’s._

_Natasha turned defensively toward Steve, covered in dirt and sweat and filth as she narrowed her eyes at him, “Are you actually trying to order me, to stop giving orders, Rogers?”_

_She took a step closer to him, placing her hands on her hips as she jutted her chin up at him in defiance.  “I got news for you.  This isn’t the Army.  You’re not my Captain.  We’re on equal ground here.  So maybe I should tell you again, the same thing I told your caveman of a brother.  Or better yet, I’ll just repeat your own demand… **You** quit ordering people around.”_

_“That’s enough!”_

_Their friends had gone on ahead of them, so the voice wasn’t any of theirs…and it wasn’t Natasha’s, Steve’s, Bucky’s, or Wanda’s._

_The four of them turned around, removing their sunglasses, and looked back towards TEVOC where they’d just left.  Phil Coulson and Melinda May stood there with their arms crossed.  Coulson had just yelled at them._

_“Just stop.  The four of you, just stop for god’s sake.”_

_Melinda raised her eyebrow at Phil, clearly amused at his tone of voice, “I swear you four have got to be the most stubborn of all the couples we’ve seen go through here…”_

_Melinda intervened though, “Well, almost the most stubborn.”_

_Now Wanda, Bucky, Steve, and Natasha looked confused as May continued, “What I think Phil is trying to say, is that you’re being really stupid right now, and it should **really**  stop.  For the betterment of your friends, and all of us here…There was a time years ago, when Instructor Coulson and I found ourselves in a similar scenario.  Newly into a relationship, and stressed beyond belief because we were equally worried about losing each other – either from one of us not making it to graduation, or from both of us making it, but then not being placed in the same office.”_

_They were stunned._

_First, how the hell did they not realize in over three months of being at Quantico, that May and Coulson were a thing?  Second, they were stunned because it took May and Coulson literally one minute to verbalize the worry that had been causing all of their problems… **all** week long._

_Phil continued, “You may think you’ve had stressful situations in the past, with your military, or your family situations, or maybe some childhood problems.  That’s all true.  But when someone you love, is either going out into the field while you’re in the office having to help them, **or** when you have to figure out a way to trust that person enough to fight in dangerous situations, side-by-side with them, and stay focused on the mission at large…it’s different.”_

_Melinda took over, “There is an up and down to finding a partner with shared experiences.  And we’ve been through it.  It’s **really** hard to deal with the fact that someone you’re in a relationship with, has chosen as dangerous of a field as you.  And it’s even  **harder**  to have that someone, on the same perilous mission as you.  It’s different than the soldiers you’ve commanded, Rogers.  It’s different from the missions you’ve been on, Romanoff and Barnes.  And it’s different from any of the hardships you’ve dealt with before, Maximoff.”_

_“This week drastically exposed those weaknesses in all of you.  You passed the test, but part of the test was making you realize what you really need to work on,” Phil said._

_They were done, but Melinda added, “And Maximoff, a word of advice.  Don’t ever verbalize the fact that you think Fury’s decision could’ve been swayed by the attempts of a pleading boyfriend.  Barnes…you were being an idiot, but Maximoff?  You’re here still for one reason only, you were good enough and showed a lot of resolve.  Your driving skills may be poor, comparatively with your friends and boyfriend. But compared to most of the other class?  You were pretty damn good.  Now move on from this…all of you, and get some rest this weekend.  You’ll need it before Monday morning.”_

_And that was how Bucky and Wanda, and Steve and Natasha discovered that Melinda May and Phil Coulson were in a very long-term relationship with one another.  They were beyond shocked and stunned with the tongue lashing they had just received, and both couples took off in separate direction._

* * *

_“Wanda, I’m in love with you.”_

_Never let it be said that James Buchanan Barnes had great timing.  He started off as a flirt, begged and pleaded for Wanda to give him a chance, made mistake after mistake this week with her, and now he couldn’t wait a second longer to tell her what he’s known for a while._

_She looked up at him, with an open mouth and wide-eyes, even more shocked.  A couple of minutes ago, she was going to scream at him because she was so worried that she’d actually gotten kicked out of Quantico and would’ve had to say goodbye to him.  And all of a sudden, everything seemed **so**   **incredibly**  senseless outside of what Bucky had just said._

_The weight of the week was gone, and her initial insecurities that caused her to be a little emotional were out the window now.  And she felt stupid and embarrassed now, by how ridiculous their fight had become.  She wasn’t mad at Bucky for trying to talk to Fury anymore.  In fact, she was all the more in love with him…yes, she’d told Natasha last weekend as much.  She was…in love with him._

_Wanda ran over and put her arms around him as he hugged her tight and kissed her cheek, “I love you too, James, and I’m so sorry.”_

_They held each other close and kissed each other senselessly.  And then Bucky and Wanda were gone within two minutes, racing off as they walked quickly to Bucky’s bedroom, to do exactly what Loki had suggested they do earlier this week._

* * *

_As for Natasha and Steve, silence accompanied their walk._

_They kept glancing at each other out of the corner of their eyes, contemplating everything that’d been said between them.  Everything that was said by May and Coulson.  Everything that was really causing this competitive and stubborn, and stupidest of all stupid fights between them – fear.  Fear of the unknown, not knowing where they would be placed after graduation.  And fear of the known, with looming thoughts of Russians and handlers, and breaking free from it all._

_Natasha and Steve walked without a destination in mind, but soon found themselves at the training center.  They stood inside by the sparring mats, still absolutely filthy and covered in dried mud from when Natasha hit the water holes off-roading._

_Steve hadn’t been able to use his words right around Natasha all week.  He was afraid of saying the wrong thing, and causing her to storm off.  That was the **last**  thing he wanted.  He’d missed her so damn much over the last four days, that it was almost unbearable.  All he wanted was to talk and be close to her again.  And he could tell by the way she was chewing on her lip and nervously drumming her fingers against her thighs…well, he could tell that she felt the exact same way. _

_Maybe it was the fact that Steve was pretty sure he’d heard his brother and Wanda just yell, ‘I love you,’ to each other.  Maybe it was because Natasha had realized May and Coulson somehow figured out how to keep a very long-term relationship going, through their own training and working years, and now as instructors at Quantico too.  Maybe it was because they were both incredibly turned on, itching to scratch at that thrilling heat that’d been simmering inside themselves all afternoon.  Or maybe…it was because they simply **needed** each other after being apart…for the stupidest of all stupid reasons, all week long. _

_Whatever it was, they were done with the bullshit.  Steve had told her that they were going to talk when the testing was done.  He demanded it._

_But as Natasha turned, swallowing as she parted her lips, and as Steve blew out a long, suggestive breath, watching her through his long eyelashes…the demand for talking vanished.  It had been a long and exhausting day, and a **hellish**  week.  The testing…and the time for talking was over. _

_Sometimes not talking at all, communicates everything two people want to say._

_Steve grabbed her hand and was leading her away from the mats, and Natasha felt a jolt through her body from the contact of his skin.  He pulled her through a dark corridor off the side of the training room, and down the dark hallway.  The air around them was a mixture…feeling both like charges of electricity and stifling tension at the same time.  If Natasha could look down at Steve’s arms, she swore she would see the hair on them standing up.  She couldn’t look down though._

_She had tunnel vision for the man in front of her.  The man that she loved.  The man that was pulling her with his burly arms, and causing her breathing to become a little louder.  Natasha was about ready to ask where Steve was taking her, when she felt a flash of warmth inside her as she grinned._

_Locker Room._

_They went into the darkened room and Steve flipped the bolt behind him, locking them inside.  He didn’t waste any time as he tugged his shirt off, revealing the separation of his filthy skin from the clean planes of his muscular chest._

_Natasha’s shirt was instantly tossed aside as well as she slipped out of her shoes.  She couldn’t stand the distance between them anymore.  With two steps toward Steve, their lips came crashing together with a hunger full of love and longing._

_Yes, it was dramatic.  But it had been four days, and it felt like four achingly long weeks since they’d last kissed.  Humming against his mouth, she parted his lips at the seam.  Not wasting anytime with soft or subtle kisses, their tongues met, transferring heat and saliva between them.  Her warmth increased, and it wasn’t nearly enough.  They’d been scratching the itch of pride and stubbornness all week, but the biggest itch that needed to be relieved was their yearning for each other.  She felt like she wanted him to devour and swallow her whole._

_Steve groaned, finally feeling Natasha’s body against him again as he slipped out of his own shoes.  Each time he felt her graze his tongue, or lips, or teeth, he felt another surge that went straight to his jeans.  They fell into a dance of backward movements.  With her receding past the lockers, pulling him along…and not really knowing where they were going.  A dance with moves like Steve lifting her sports bra over her head._

_She let out a shaky laugh, full of excitement and anticipation.  Anticipation for what they’d missed as she reached down, ambitiously yanking his belt from his pant loops.  Steve paused, stilling her movement and pressing his fingers into her hips.  Their eyes met, and his travelled down her bare chest as he licked his lips.  She followed his gaze, travelling along her skin and back up, only to stare straight into her eyes again._

_Fuck._

_Steve’s pupils were a little darker now, and Natasha felt her throat tighten.  The next thing she knew, a gasp escaped her as he kissed the tops of her voluptuous mounds that he’d missed so dearly.  Arching her back into his mouth, she fumbled to find the button of his jeans.  Unbuttoning them after a few seconds, she worked her fingers inside, sliding them down his hipbone and grazing the front of his boxers._

_Steve grunted, biting at the soft skin on her breast as she felt how hard he already was.  “Shower…Now, Nat.”  His fingers found their way into the band of her jeans, helping her shimmy out of them and depositing them on the floor along with the rest of their trail of clothing._

_Another heady laugh, “Is that an order, Soldier?”_

_The fact that they’d just been playing semantics that afternoon over who was ordering whom, and she’d just asked him the same thing…only now, in a sultry tone, did not go unnoticed.  His voice sounded even more gravelly than when he was demanding they talk earlier._

_“You’re goddamn right it is, Nat.”_

_Fuck, that went straight to her core as a desperate sigh came out of her.  He reached down to take off his socks as she followed.  That left them only in their underwear, still grimy from the day…and thinking even dirtier thoughts.  He grabbed her wrists again and led them to the end, to the handicap shower.  Pushing her inside, Steve turned the water on immediately as he started sucking on her neck, not caring at all that they weren’t clean yet._

_The shower was cold at first, causing her to yelp, but the shock went away quickly.  Steve had her pressed against the wall and surrounded every part of her, protecting her from the cool stream of water.  She tangled her fingers through his hair as his lips skimmed along the column of her throat, nibbling at where she was swallowing more and more._

_“Steve,” she pleaded, feeling the water turn a little warmer as her hands made it to his back, digging into the meat of his triceps._

_His thumb found its way to the front of her cotton panties.  He was unsure if the wet warmth he felt through the center was from the water or her…He had a strong hunch, and by her reaction as he pressed inward, he figured out he was right.  His thumbs hooked into the sides of the cotton and shoved them down as her hands did the same with his boxers.  Steve kneeled down to grab both small pieces of fabric and tossed them outside the shower.  They landed with a wet thud as he found himself on his knees, before her soft, red curls and glistening pussy._

_How appropriate to be kneeling because he wanted to worship her._

_He didn’t waste time with trailing kisses up and down her thigh.  Steve wasn’t kidding when they first made love at the lake resort.  Tasting her…was something he’d quickly gotten addicted to._

_Steve grabbed her hips and shoved her harder against the wall as he threw one of her legs over his shoulder.  A second later his nose was brushing against her mound as his lips moved, kissing her swollen clit.  “Fuck, Steve.”_

_It was too much at once as she cried out, and he knew it…and relished in her startled sound.  Steve moaned as he kept kissing and sucking, before his mouth trailed down to her moist lips.  Taking all of her in, he drug his tongue from the bottom, all the way to the top of her slit in one slow and warm lick.  She dug her heel into his back as she pulled him closer, with her nails burrowing into his shoulders as she threw her head against the wall._

_The dirt from their arms and legs and faces was washing away, trickling down the floor of the shower into the drain, and they didn’t care or notice at all._

_Caught up in their raw arousal, they could only hear the sucking and kissing and moaning…and frantic breathing between them.  Natasha whimpered as she rocked her hips against Steve’s mouth.  She brought her hand up, pinching her nipple as she begged for more, “Yes Steve…right there.”_

_Holding her in place with one hand firmly cupping the crease of her groin, Steve found her other breast.  Rolling her nipple between his thumb and fingers, he squeezed at the surrounding, supple skin…tugging at it, and causing her to moan louder._

_He backed off for a second, watching her face above him.  Eyes closed, lips parted as she cried out softly while breathing heavily.  Hair wet and splayed down her neck against the shower wall, and her hips…her hips kept bucking against him, only he wasn’t kissing her right now.  She was so turned on that she didn’t care or notice as she kept wriggling between his face and the wall._

_His voice…and every sense of his was dripping with an incredible urge, “Nat…You’re so sexy when you’re like this…You have no idea.”_

_She threaded her hand back through his hair and pulled him between her thighs again.  He smirked, happily moving between them as his hand joined him this time.  Two fingers sank into her as her heel dug harder into his back.  She was so fucking wet…all over.  Her skin was soaked.  Her hair was sopping.  And her pussy…It was dripping with a wet heat that consumed his fingers._

_The shower was full of senses._

_Smell.  Taste.  Hear.  Feel.  See._

_They battled each other in the dark and echoed walls, fighting to be the strongest as Natasha inundated Steve with all of them.  It was all so erotic._

_Steve had never wanted her more._

_And he was feeling greedy, moving back to the swollen flesh above her lips as he sucked and lapped at her again.  This time it **wasn’t**  too much as she whined, letting her Russian bleed through as she whimpered, “Da,” welcoming the sensation while squirming against him. _

_“Fuck Steve, I’m sorry.”_

_Steve sucked with more fervor, savoring all that he could of her, and he smirked hearing her words.  Of course, she would choose now to apologize.  Prickly and stubborn.  That was her, and he loved her **so**  damn much.  Lifting his lips slightly, he could feel her release growing.  His fingers moved quicker, hooking inside of her each time now, “We can apologize later, Nat.  I’m giving orders, remember?  And I want you to come.” _

_Any other time, the line would’ve been cheesy.  But right now?  Right here in the dark shadows…in a shower of the FBI training facility, and after a week of being apart because of needless and stupid fighting?_

_God, the irony was hilarious…because right now?  Right now, Natasha wanted Steve to tell her what to do every second of **every**  damn day in that husked voice because his words only made her curl inside with a burning need. _

_She pulled on his hair as his licking became harder and faster.  And then she was crying out, careening over the edge as he kissed through her spasms, with her walls clenching as they tightened around his fingers.  Reaching up to hold her hips in place, he kept her from slipping as her knees buckled a little._

_Steve kissed her thighs, running his hands along her legs, caressing her back to existence.  His mouth moved up to her hips, and then her breasts as he stood up, sucking at her sensitive nipples once more.  Steve found her lips again with his own, kissing her hard and deep, letting her taste herself on him._

_It was erotic.  It was sensual.  It was delicious and intimate all in one._

_Moaning into his mouth, Natasha could feel his cock pressing into her lower abdomen, and she felt a rush of warmth again.  Still too sensitive…she needed a little time before what was surely to come next, so she lowered her hands, feeling his erection.  He was beyond aroused.  He was achingly hard._

_She reached between her own legs and moved her fingers inside, coating the tips as Steve paused and watched her with hooded eyes and rasped breathing.  Lifting her fingers to his lips, she shoved them into his mouth, causing his cock to twitch against her.  She felt every pulse, and every lick of his tongue as he let out a strangled noise, “Fuck Nat, what are you trying to do to me?”_

_“Returning the favor, Soldier.”_

_She slid out, turning him around so he was flat against the wall of the shower now.  Standing up on her toes, she licked his ear, and then his jaw.  She kissed him on the lips, “I taste good on you.”  A grunt came out of him as he blew out a breath through his nostrils and tangled his fingers in her sopping mess of hair.  He wasn’t pushing her anywhere.  He just wanted to feel every part of her and where she was going._

_She grazed her teeth along his Adams apple, feeling it bob with his swallowing.  Lavishing his skin on her way down his chest, she kissed one of his own nipples and pinched the other with her hand, causing him to jerk, “Don’t be so sensitive,” she demanded in that sultry tone again._

_Steve’s brow furrowed, concentrating on the site below him.  His incredibly beautiful and sexy girlfriend, who he loved more than he could say, was about to go down on him in the shower of a dark locker room at Quantico.  Looking up at him with her dark eyes, she grinned as she knelt down, letting her hands trail down his chest, over the hair around his navel, around his abs, and into the soft hair at his pelvis.  She could see how red and swollen his tip was as she cupped his balls, causing him to stutter, “Ff…Fuck.”_

_Natasha’s fingers were firm on his thigh as she gripped the base of his cock with her other hand.  Relaxing her fist, she slid up his shaft as he groaned right along with her movement.  She grazed her thumb along his swollen tip, rubbing the liquid already leaking out of him.  Letting it coat her hand a little, she started moving her wrist._

_“Eyes on me, Soldier.”_

_She made an oval shape with her mouth and blew out a hot, sticky breath, letting him feel the humidity from it.  The water from the shower head drummed against her back, on his stomach, down in between them.  The senses were in a battle again as she found the head of his cock with her tongue, licking gently along the tip, and causing him to grip her hair a little tighter._

_She hummed, as her mouth descended, and her wrist moved a little more…back and forth now at the base of him, squeezing a little each time.  Her lips puckered, kissing the tip as she slowly moved over his warm and tender skin.  And then she was right there, making full contact and curving around the ridge of his head, as her tongue flattened, grazing along his flesh._

_She opened her mouth a little more, staring up at him as their eyes connected, the green and blue almost non-existent as lust clouded them, “Fuck Nat, that feels so good.”_

_She was down on his shaft now, breathing heavily through her mouth, sliding her wet and plump lips along his length until she met her fingers wound around him.  Flattening her palm against his pubic bone at the base of his shaft, she slid further down, taking more of him inside, filling her mouth almost completely._

_He looked down at her, rubbing her head now, and pushing into the shower wall as hard as he could with his other hand.  Steve choked out his words, “Nat, you don’t have to…”_

_She didn’t have to.  But just like Steve, she wanted to.  She **wanted**  him.  She wanted to forget this fucking week ever happened and wanted to spend the entire weekend fucking and making love to him.  She dug her nails into his thigh as her head began to bob back and forth on him, taking a little more of him in each time.  Her saliva coated his length, easing the way.  She finally took all of him in with her watering eyes as she pushed past the impulse to gag. _

_Making Steve feel this good…this aroused…this succumbed under her control was empowering and a turn-on, all in one.  It was incredible.  Almost as incredible as how he made her feel.  But she backed off when the size of him became too much after a few seconds.  Her mouth slid off of him with a wet sucking sound, and she moved her wrist back to the base of his shaft.  Sliding her tongue along the vein on the underside of his cock, proved to be almost too much for him, but it wasn’t enough right now._

_“Nat, I need.”_

_She backed off of him again, gently kissing his tip, “What do you need, Steve?”_

_She looked up at him, and even through pupils that were blown-wide, there was the love and adoration between them that was missing all week long, “I need **you** , Nat.”_

_Biting her lip, she stood up, knowing exactly what he meant.  He turned her around, caressing her cheek and her neck.  His lips followed, kissing her everywhere until he found her lips again.  Natasha’s hands wrapped around his neck as he hooked his fingers under her knees, lifting her up against the shower._

_“I’m right here, Steve.”_

_And that was it.  He pushed her into the wall as he held onto her ass at first, and her thighs tightened around his waist.  Careful of slipping, he planted his feet firmly beneath him, and held onto her tight.  Guiding his now rigid cock to her pussy, he slid, with one quick and hard thrust, all the way into her._

_A throaty mewl was drawn out of her, almost like it was the only sound she had left as he pushed inside.  Sheer pleasure and utter desire - she was bordering on incoherency, having no control of what she sounded like in that moment.  He was around her, inside her, over her, and somehow it wasn’t enough as he held her still for a few seconds._

_Gaining her bearings, she found her words, shoving her heels into his lower back, “Hard Steve.  I want you to fuck me hard.”_

_His chest rumbled, letting out a low growl.  Pulling out almost all the way, Steve watched her open her lips, and heard her panting of breath.  Thrusting all the way back in, he felt her heated core guide him inside._

_“That’s it, Steve.  Just like that…Harder.”_

_They’d had a lot of sex in the five weeks of actually being together in every way. **A lot.**  They’d tried a lot of positions, and had fooled around on campus in different locations.  But this was by far, the darkest and most stimulating of places, and the way she was talking…the way he was feeling…was the dirtiest and sexiest either one of them had ever felt. _

_They were fucking.  And making love, somehow.  They were fucking, while in love, and it only filled the air around them with more pleasure and sexual vigor…And that only stirred their senses more._

_They were digging and clawing and scratching…but it wasn’t from pride or fighting.  They were clawing at a primal urge…a carnal desire…Stubborn meet stupid?  Not anymore.  Desire meet longing.  Hunger meet love.  The concoction was palpable, sticky, and thick…And they were so willing to lose themselves in it._

_It was like Natasha could feel every muscle of him move around her as he began pumping into her with long and hard thrusts.  It was like Steve could feel the fire inside her start to shift and burn as she bit her lip first, and then found his bottom lip in a bruising, obscene kiss._

_The wet sounds of the shower and his driving and pushing inside her, harder and harder, filled the suffocating air around them.  Their breathing became heavier and uneven as they both began to tremble._

_Her hips started writhing against his thrusts, trying to feel even more of him.  His fingers dug into her thighs, where he held her, hard enough that she would feel it and probably see light bruises tomorrow.  Her fingers slid up his back and gripped the nape of his neck as she held her forehead against him.  Feeling each breath and pant and moan.  Feeling him fill her again and again, causing her to sob from sheer insatiable desire.  They were close.  Steve’s hips drove into her frantically at a punishing pace as he pressed his head into her shoulder.  She scraped her nails against his back and moved the little bit she could, meeting each of his thrusts as she cried out._

_“Nat.”_

_“I know, Steve.  I’m close too…Come with me.”_

_He groaned and bit down into her collar bone a little, falling off the edge…he couldn’t hold back, and his pulsing shattered as he tensed, coming hard and long inside of her, “God, Nat.  I love you.  I love you so fucking much.”_

_She moaned and whimpered as she found his lips with a sloppy, desperate kiss, feeling him empty inside her as she felt that coiling fire start to release.  He held her tight, rocking slower and slower in her as she dissolved into pleasure…She was right there with him, letting out soft whines, crying against his lips as she collapsed around him, feeling all of him the entire time._

_They were both panting heavily, kissing feverishly, holding on tightly, and feeling the absolute best they had all week long.  Natasha kissed along his jaw, around his mouth, down his neck as she started murmuring, “I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry, Steve.  I love you so much.”_

_The emotion of the entire week finally became overwhelming as everything hit her and she started tearing up, looking into his eyes as he kissed her back, “I was such a bitch and a baby…I was just scared.  God, I’m sorry.  Please forgive me, Steve.  I love you.”_

_He cut her off again, swallowing her words with his mouth as he turned the water a little warmer and let her down from his arms.  The ache in their bodies was exquisite.  “Natasha, I’m sorry too.  I know you were scared.  I’m scared too.  And it was something so stupid that turned into something bigger, and we didn’t talk.  I was miserable the last four nights without you.”_

_He turned her around, so the water could massage her back now, as he wrapped his arms around her, running his fingers along her spine.  They were exhausted and felt so relaxed now under the constant thrum of the shower.  Thank god for the numerous hot water heaters at Quantico._

_“I just…what if we don’t get placed in the same location, Steve?  I can’t imagine being anywhere in the FBI without you…”_

_“And I got scared, thinking about what you’re going to do with your handlers, trying to free you and Clint.  And then I started thinking how dangerous the situation will be if we’re in the field together.  I was a stubborn ass this week too….and you weren’t a bitch.”_

_She smiled against his chest, kissing around his nipples.  They washed themselves finally, ridding them of all the dirt and grime and mud that was still on them from their day, that now seemed like weeks ago.  The stupidity and stubborn ‘meet cute’ was long gone and was sucked out of the air between them._

_They promised to talk more this weekend as he washed her hair.  She promised to let him help her more as she washed his.  He promised to be open to her suggestions more, like when she was initially telling him to stay out of Wanda and Bucky’s fight as they cleaned each other’s body.”  Was it their last fight?  Good heavens, no.  There would be more to come, for sure.  But they made it through, just like the test today…and that’s what was important._

_And twenty minutes later, with their skin officially pruning from warm water, they were incredibly turned on again…_

_That was how they realized Steve hadn’t actually locked the door to the locker room all the way.  Tony had come over to shower because all the ones in the dorms were being used right now by everyone after the long day.  He came in to see a trail of clothes, scattered between the lockers and benches, all the way back to the string of showers._

_And that was how Tony came to find the curtain open in the last shower, with Natasha bent over, holding onto the bench in the handicap stall, moaning with Steve pounding into her relentlessly from behind._

_“Well, looks like you two kissed and made up!” Tony shouted out as he turned quicker than he ever had in order to get the fuck out of there.  He bumped into a bench and yelled, “Ouch,” as Steve and Natasha both yelled at the same time, “Tony, what the fuck?”_

_He grinned as he got to the door, “Oh, don’t what the fuck me…if you’re going to hook up outside your dorm room, at least be smart enough to lock the door all the way.  Oh…and Rogers?  Looks like you rev Romanoff’s engine just fine!”_

_He cackled all the way out into the hallway as he ran into Sam, coming for the locker room with the same idea – to find an open shower.  But he had a flustered look on his face.  Tony paused, “What’s wrong, Sam?”_

_“Man, my stupid roommate and his girlfriend didn’t lock our bedroom door.  I walked in on Wanda riding Bucky on his bed, and I think my eyes are scarred for life.”  Tony started laughing hysterically at the situation._

_“What’s so funny, Tony?”_

_“Nothing, Sam…you have to see it with your own eyes.  Why don’t you go take a peek in the locker room and find out?”_

_Sam looked at Tony, and then looked at the locker room door, quickly putting two and two together, “Those stupid asses…we had to put up with their fighting all week long, and we’re the ones still suffering through their make-up.”_

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. Well that was the steamiest thing I’ve ever written (Literally and figuratively…shower…steam?) I’m stopping right now.
> 
> Would anyone pay to see a Tony / Loki duo comedy act? Their characters crack me up. I say it every chapter, but I also mean it everytime – thanks so much for the support and encouragement as this journey continues. You are all the best!
> 
> Look for Russia and the Present Day to take the majority of the next chapter. 
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr @eightieskat if you want to chat about this story, or anything MCU, or just anything in general.
> 
> I love to hear from the readers, so let me know your thoughts! Have a great start to the week :)
> 
> Cheers! ~~ Kat


	20. The Passage of Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter was challenging for me in so many ways. I’m not going to go into details here, so I’ll continue at the end. Some big set up, a little snippet, and some pretty big emotional reveals in the last part…(the present)…and by last part, I mean the majority of the chapter. 
> 
> I put in a little 4 + 1 sort of twist as a way to incorporate a very important emotional piece. 
> 
> I really hope you enjoy the chapter and image board below.

Memories & Reality

I do not own any of this or any part of Marvel or the MCU

Chapter 20 – The Passage of Time

* * *

**_4 Years Ago_ ** _\- Russia_

_The evening of the Gala had arrived._

_For two nights, Steve had been in Natasha’s native country.  He’d settled in, 48 hours ago, to map out the area, gather as much information as he could, and to try to formulate and finalize a plan.  And now the waiting and planning were done.  They had to be, because that small passage of time since he’d arrived on the backroads from St. Petersburg was over._

_Part of Steve was relieved, because he’d been anxious all day long.  His body wouldn’t quit on his morning run as he pushed himself over 12 miles.  After he’d finally returned to the hotel, the day was spent going over the evening repeatedly, all the while pacing, fidgeting, and bouncing his knee._

_And now, here Steve Rogers stood, right in the middle of Red Square **again** , only this time he wasn’t pretending to be a tourist at the surrounding festival.  He was a guest, headed for the Gala…looking ruggedly handsome in a black tuxedo and all.  _

_Breathing in and out, Steve tried to calm himself as he stared up at the large, vibrant domes of St. Basil’s Cathedral.  The historic landmark towered over the thousands of people milling about around it, making the fact more than obvious to Steve, that he was in such a foreign land, both mentally and physically._

_“Now or never.”_

_Steve muttered to himself as he turned toward the direction of the Grand Kremlin Palace, the location of the Gala.  He had a little under a mile walk._

_The night sky was taking over as the sun began to set, and just like the previous two nights, the lighting and sounds were bright and lively around the festival full of tourists.  Unlike the night before though, anyone attending the Gala stood out like a sore thumb in their black tie attire.  Several tourists and Russian locals gave Steve friendly waves and nods as he walked through the square, and a few of the women even smiled flirtatiously at him._

_If Natasha were there with him…if they were on a normal FBI undercover mission like they’d been countless times before she betrayed them three years ago…If.  If she **were** there with Steve, she would have some sarcastic remark toward him, saying something like, “Is it possible, for you to not look so sexy?  You’re looks are drawing attention to us.” And Steve would’ve disagreed, with an equally insinuating retort about her own appearance.  _

_If only._

_Steve’s jaw clenched at the thought.  He wasn’t here with her.  He was here to find her._

_Colonel Phillips caved about a month ago, after Steve’s persistent stubbornness reached an all-time high.  He had annoyed his former C.O. enough, that Phillips finally found Rogers access to the Gala by obtaining a ticket from an old Russian contact of his.  The Colonel knew just how obstinate Steve was…And Phillips knew if he didn’t help, that Rogers would try to scalp some fraudulent ticket and would probably get arrested in the process, before his quest had even begun._

_His foolish and denial filled quest._

_In addition to a ticket, Steve acquired fake identification from an asset of his in the city._

_The asset – Scott Lang.  Lang and his crew named themselves X-Con Security Consultants, after they’d gotten caught in the midst of a jewelry heist years and years ago.  The FBI made a deal with them because it was the first blemish on their record.  And…they were incredibly talented.  So, the FBI allowed them to work legitimately as a home security company, in exchange for being an asset and working with the agency as needed.  Whether it was helping map out an op for a mission, finding a way into a location, helping locate certain criminals in the city, or faking identification in a pinch for an undercover operation, the X-Con team was frequently used as a resource for Steve and his FBI team.  Steve had even become somewhat friendly with Scott, Luis, Hope, and the rest of their group over the years._

_Which is why Scott didn’t even blink an eye at Steve’s request for fake identification, for both himself and Natasha.  Steve had worked with Scott so many times over the years.  So, Lang didn’t think anything of it when Rogers asked him to keep it quiet and not even tell his team about the request.  Scott chalked it up to being a covert undercover mission and got him the papers and identification within a day.  They were impeccable as always._

_What wasn’t impeccable was the request itself.  It was the first real action by Steve, that crossed a very bold line since Natasha left._

_Yes, he’d been searching at night for her and had learned Russian, but he hadn’t developed the almost manic obsession he would years from now.  No.  Right now, Steve did what he always did when it came to his black and white morals being greyed and blurred.  He justified his actions._

_Steve initially justified Natasha’s secrecy and deflection, through his own denial initially at Quantico…ever since he literally and figuratively fell head over heels for her.  And then secrets were kept once he found out about her past.  And he justified those actions, by telling himself she was **good** and doing the right thing, by joining the FBI.  She was finding a way out.  _

_Steve **knew** deep down, that he was making justifications back then, but he jumped into the deep end of the pool anyway.  It was simple.  He loved her…and she **was** trying to do the right thing then.  But now?  Now the lines were blurred and pushed.  Keeping secrets morphed into bold actions that had Steve jumping way over lines he never thought he’d cross.  And he wasn’t in the deep end of a measly pool anymore.  Right now, he was in a huge ocean of denial.  And the shoreline was nowhere in sight._

_So, here Steve stood, walking along the Moskva River, not as Steve Rogers…but as Alexander Kuznetsov.  It was ambiguous enough that no one would raise an eyebrow if he had to show his ID.  His story was simple.  He grew up in America after being born in Russia and having a hard childhood.  It would definitely be plausible to anyone who lived in Russia.  And the best lies can be simple and are believable if they have an air of truth to them.  He’d learned that well from the same woman he was trying to find this evening._

_The hypocrisy and irony fused together, not knowing where one began and the other ended with that circular reasoning.  She lied.  She taught him well.  Now he was lying, justifying, denying, and acting out, all sorts of other passive verbs, all in the hopes that the end justified the means._

_Speaking of lies, another big step into the grey found Steve lying to his team and family.  To Bucky.  Blatant lies were told by Steve for the first time since Natasha left.  Another step.  Another nudge.  Further and further he went across that line.  He was at the beginning of his travels across the proverbial line…Steve just didn’t know it yet.  He could never conceive of where he’d be in two and four years from now._

_When Natasha left the FBI, most everyone on the team believed Steve knew nothing about her past.  He didn’t have to put up an act.  Steve **was** blindsided by her betrayal, and was devastated that she was gone from his life.  And honestly?  He didn’t know anything about what she had done…until it was too late.  _

_But as far as Steve knowing nothing about Natasha’s past?  Bucky knew his brother…and he knew it was a bunch of bullshit.  Bucky could read his brother well, and Steve’s devastation lowered his guard enough at the time, that Bucky could tell.  He could tell Steve knew more than what he was letting on._

_So, Steve came clean to Bucky about Quantico and what he’d known about Natasha’s upbringing, shortly after she left.  In actuality, after her betrayal, it wasn’t really that shocking to Barnes.  But it didn’t mean he wasn’t pissed at his brother.  Bucky and Steve hashed it out.  They argued about not keeping things from each other, and eventually got over it.  Steve felt better after his brother knew, and they didn’t tell anyone else (except Wanda, of course.)  There wasn’t a need really._

_Honestly, looking back on it, now knowing Natasha had betrayed them, everything they knew about her at Quantico filled in the mystery about her pretty easily._

_A young woman, deceptive and manipulative and deflective by nature, was talented in most all areas of weaponry, fighting, plotting, espionage, and was smart as hell.  They knew she was in an orphanage, and they knew she’d been ‘trained’ by her ‘adoptive parents’ in the U.S. in a really weird survivalist mentality.  And they knew she had a brother who she was oddly close with, yet secretive about._

_So, when the team discovered that Natasha had actually been trained with that secretive brother, first in a camp disguised as an orphanage, and then in their adoptive home in the U.S., all to be a Russian Spy?  After Natasha betrayed them, it really wasn’t that big of a leap to make.  Her past and upbringing all became…believable._

_What the team still couldn’t believe…maybe would never understand…was that Natasha was capable of betrayal.  Everyone from Quantico.  Everyone who’d worked side-by-side with her for five years.  Her friends who loved her, and Steve, who was **so** in love with her… **never** in a million years, thought she would **ever** be capable of it.  Of leaving them…of lying and leaving Steve.  _

_No matter how perfect 20/20 vision was in hindsight.  She had been one of them._

_That shocking day and revelation, where Steve’s world fell apart…caused him to begin his journey on this fated path.  It caused him to use the following three years, only as a passage of time.  A passage in the end, that only led him right back to her._

_And now Steve was **here** , three years later, trying to find her…And lying to Bucky again.  Justifications.  The grey.  Crossing a line.  What a desperate man will do who’s in denial and still in love.  What wouldn’t Steve do to make things straight in his mind?  To convince himself that he could move on and arrest Natasha?  _

_Years from now in the future, Steve would find that there was really no line he wouldn’t cross for her.  There was no justification he wouldn’t make.  And he would find that his denial would shift, from denying his love for her, to denying the fact that there would be a reckoning for his actions and lies eventually._

_If hindsight was 20/20, foresight was as imperfect as they came._

_But Steve was only focused on the current lie he found himself in.  Steve told his team that he needed time away, finally.  And that he was going on a week-long hiking and hunting expedition in Northern Canada.  He hadn’t really taken time-off since Natasha left, so it was more than welcomed by his team.  They all bought it, hook, line, and sinker.  Because honestly?  Steve was a hook, line, and sinker sort of man and would choose to camp and be outside versus, say…go to a Russian festival._

_So yeah, they all bought it.  Almost everyone.  Bucky was **more** than suspicious of Steve’s actions but life got in the way, which worked out in Steve’s favor.  Wanda…Bucky’s very pregnant wife, told her husband to leave Steve alone, and that some time to clear his head would be good.  _

* * *

_The sun was setting along the Moskva River as Steve continued his walk towards the Gala, running over his plan again.  If he could appreciate the view, he really would think it was a beautiful scene.  Again, he ended up thinking that if he were here with Natasha, he could imagine sketching her as she walked along the stone wall with the gorgeous sunset reflecting off the deep blues of the water._

_Another life._

_Steve pushed the lingering thoughts away as he focused on what was in front of him.  His luggage was already packed into his 4x4.  His gun, identification, handcuffs, Russian cash, emergency burner phone, and his ticket into the Gala, were all on him._

_The plan.  Find Natasha, lure her outside, arrest her by his vehicle and take her to St. Petersburg.  That would give him the same eight-hour drive back on side roads to get her to stop fighting him and come with him, turning herself in.  He’d use her fake identification to get her on the plane back to the U.S.  And if things went awry?  Phillips made Steve allow him to at least provide a safety net.  The Colonel had a contact at the U.S. Embassy in St. Petersburg that would sneak them inside, in case of emergency._

_But if it came to that, Steve’s cover would be blown, along with his whole personal black ops mission.  Steve thought if he arrested Natasha, it would make his actions forgivable to his family and team.  He’d come clean with them once and for all, and put this all behind him.  But if he **didn’t** succeed in bringing her home, and Fury had to get involved because of a botched mission, then he’d be in a whirlwind of trouble.  And he was already in a whirlwind, emotionally and mentally._

_Steve’s world record level of denial caused rationalizations to occur in leaps and bounds.  All because Steve wasn’t admitting to himself, what this whole trip overseas was really about.  He **needed** to see Natasha.  He needed to look her in those beautiful green eyes, and see if she really was, the lying and manipulative traitor that people had made her out to be over the last three years.  He needed to see her to get some goddamn answers.  He needed to see her because while he hadn’t admitted it to himself, he still loved her.  _

_Steve’s denial had taught him a foreign language, sent him overseas, and had put himself into the middle of enemy territory alone.  Reckless didn’t even begin to begin to describe it.  And no one else, besides a semi-retired, old, Army Colonel, knew **anything** about Steve’s private reconnaissance mission…’Operation Arrest Romanoff.’  _

_And Phillips reasons for helping Rogers could be summarized with the Colonel feeling youthful and part of the action again with one of the best Army Captains he’d ever had the pleasure of commanding…which was a problem in and of itself.  But with all the problems that were piling up?  Phillips’ underlying reasons would surely get swept under the rug and forgotten about._

_Steve didn’t tell anyone else about the mission, for one reason and one reason alone…_

_They would’ve **never** let him go.  No matter how much denial Steve was in, he even admitted to himself that’s why he was using Phillips.  Rogers knew he would’ve been prevented from coming here.  Steve knew it because he himself, would have stopped **anyone** he loved and cared about from doing something dangerous like this.  Bucky would have given an arm in order to stop his brother from being so stupid under his denial.  _

_All of those thoughts weighed heavily as Steve walked with the cool breeze brushing along the river and through his hair.  He breathed it in, and pleaded to himself internally to keep his wits about him tonight.  Any other thoughts would have to wait.  Because ‘now or never,’ was officially here._

_Steve had arrived at the Grand Kremlin Palace._

_The entrance approached, welcoming him with a sidewalk lined with plush red carpeting.  Steve shoved the messy feelings of love and denial aside because the abstract rabbit hole of those emotions wouldn’t help him.  Nothing would help, except for his own actions right now…because Steve was face-to-face with the concrete reality of his choices._

_A line had formed as guests waited from the red carpet all the way up the grand stairway.  Steve made his way to the back of the line as he heard the sounds of violins being played, accompanying the guests’ wait.  He quickly scanned the crowd outside.  Hundreds of people in formal gowns and black tuxedos stood all around as the line moved slowly, but steadily._

_Slow and steady, just like Steve was trying to keep his heartrate through his breathing right now.  Surprisingly, it was easier than earlier today, when he waited in his room in anticipation.  The waiting was always the hardest part on a mission, whether it was the Army or the FBI, or here in Moscow._

_An older couple stood in front of Steve and looked back as he joined them in line.  Their smiles were warm as they spoke, “_ Добрый вечерf.”  _Steve smiled and waved, wishing them a, ‘Good Evening,’ right back, “_ _Привет, это прекрасный вечер,” (Hello, this is a beautiful evening.)_

_The older gentleman responded in English, “Ah such a handsome man.  Your Russian is very good, but you are American, no?”_

_First the bartender, now this lovely older couple.  Apparently, even with the beard and speaking the native language, Russians could spot an American a mile away.  Time for Steve to practice his lying and cover story._

_Steve took a step closer to the couple, “Yes.  American, but I was born in Russia.”  Steve cleared his throat and looked down at the ground, shuffling his feet back and forth, conveying that he didn’t want to talk much about that time in his life, “It was a tough childhood before America.  But I am glad to be back tonight.”_

_Steve took a card from Natasha’s playbook back at Quantico.  She deflected a whole teams’ worth of questions for months by telling them about a vague story of a rough childhood.  Naturally, people didn’t want to impose, so they changed the subject.  This was no different.  In fact, this couple from Russia seemed to know **all** too well, the story of children having a rough childhood in Russia, as he saw some empathy and understanding flicker across their eyes.  _

_The older woman simply nodded and changed the subject, “It is exciting.  But such a fetching man should have a beautiful woman at his side to dance and drink with, celebrating this fine evening.”  Steve chuckled, “I’m not as lucky as your husband, Ma’am.  But if I find you inside, maybe I’d be lucky enough, if you’d promise me a dance?”_

_Rely on your strengths.  Steve’s instincts, physical strength, and leadership kept him alive in the Army.  His intelligence, wicked attention to detail, and skills as an agent would need to be relied upon tonight.  But what he was relying on, in addition to all of those other skillsets, was his appearance and charm.  Steve naturally was a humble and pretty clueless man when it came to his own looks.  He always had been, which was opposite of his brother growing up._

_It wasn’t that Steve ever thought he was ugly as an adult.  It was just that he didn’t know how incredibly attractive people found him.  His looks, combined with his lack of awareness about his appearance, only drew people in.  Being humble, handsome, and having a good heart only made individuals naturally more comfortable around Steve.  It’s part of what had drawn Natasha to him so forcefully in the first place._

_Steve couldn’t help but think of how Natasha would be proud of his charming demeanor toward the older woman right now._

_The woman smiled at Steve as her husband gave a boisterous laugh, smacking Steve on the shoulder, “Oh, you Americans with your charm.  If you find me inside, we must drink some vodka together to celebrate.”  His wife added, “Charming yes, but I’m sure you will not have any problems finding a woman to dance with tonight.  You just wait.  Before you know it, you’ll have a beautiful lady at your side to spend the evening with.”_

_Steve swallowed, wishing it were a different world and the beautiful woman he was trying to track down was at his side now. **This** was his reality though.  He nodded again at them as they approached the security check point, examining the guests’ tickets and bags and jackets._

_Steve had seen several people escorted away for having counterfeit tickets as he silently thanked the Colonel for his connections.  Apparently, Rogers wasn’t the only one trying to sneak into the Gala, so having a legitimate ticket was a necessity._

_They were about 100 feet away.  Steve also knew there would be security checks for safety.  So, while it was a risk to bring his firearm…a big risk…Steve did it anyway.  There were going to be all sorts of criminals, seedy politicians, and people Natasha was associated with inside.  So, there was **no way** he was entering the Gala without some sort of protection. _

_As he watched the security checks now 50 feet in front of him, Steve noticed an inadvertent pattern.  Yes, the guards were going through everyone’s coats and bags, but there was an unintentional loophole.  His mind raced, thinking quickly on his feet.  Steve took his jacket off, and asked the older woman in front of him if she’d be kind enough to hold it while he tied his shoes._

_The woman actually seemed flattered as she happily obliged.  They were only 20 feet away now._

_Steve grinned to himself as they walked right in front of the security checkpoint and then bent over to tie his shoe.  He had successfully found the security guards’ blind spot.  Most of the time, there was always a weakness or a flaw…a way out of dilemmas like this.  He’d learned how to fight his way out of predicaments all his life and in the military, but this?_

_No.  Situations like **this** , reeking of espionage, blending in and thinking quickly on his feet?  That was all Natasha Romanoff’s doing.  She’d helped him hone his skills in this area while they worked together…While they were together.  _

_The blind spot.  The guards weren’t checking the older women as thoroughly as the men and younger females.  An older woman naturally lowered a person’s defenses.  The woman’s husband held onto her clutch, so security looked through it, and his jacket.  But they let her walk right on by as she gave a sincere smile.  The guards looked Steve over, patted his pants pockets, checked his ticket and ID, and let him inside.  There was no trouble, since his cuffs and gun were in his jacket, now ten feet in front of him._

_“Thank you so much, Ma’am,” Steve smiled as he patted her on the shoulder and took his jacket back.  He shook the husband’s hand, and the couple beamed at Steve.  Right inside the door, there were trays of shots, welcoming the guests with vodka (Of course there were.)  The husband grabbed three and laughed, “Nostrovia!”  His wife and Steve smiled, clinked their glasses and took the shot, answering him with the same cheers._

_Good thing Steve had warmed his stomach up to the liquor the previous two nights._

_Right after the trays of alcohol, there were a few individuals handing out masks for the Gala.  Steve didn’t anticipate this, but if he was being honest, the extra concealing layer was welcomed.  He grabbed a black mask that covered all of his forehead, his nose, and part of his cheeks.  With the mask in addition to his fully grown beard, no one would recognize him.  No one except her._

* * *

_Steve made his way up the Parade Staircase, leading into the Palace._

_Grabbing a double whiskey at the open bar, he soon found himself on the second level in a room named St. Vladimir’s Hall.  Working his way through faceless guests behind their masks, Steve quickly found a woman he could talk to, blending in while taking in his surroundings._

_The balcony of the royal hall overlooked a large and open room with skylights and intricate bronzed chandeliers overhead.  Looking down, Steve saw a beautiful parquet floor and white marble columns lining walls in between archways.  Beyond each arch, there was a private enclosure with red velvet curtains, pulled back by a gold rope._

_It all looked like just as someone would imagine…rich with history and money, like something from an old Soviet Czar._

_The woman Steve found wasn’t interested in anything more than small talk, which was fine with Steve.  He scanned the floor and found guests making their way to different rooms inside the Palace, but no Natasha or Clint yet.  Steve said goodbye to the woman and continued moving along the balcony._

_Smiling behind his mask at each man and woman he encountered, Steve made his way to the furthest point from the staircase he’d come up, looking into each archway and enclosure below.  He may not be able to distinguish faces because of the masquerade, but he could see what the guests were doing in each small enclosure.  In one of the spaces, he saw a couple kissing as they moved quickly behind the thick curtains.  In the next room, he saw another couple arguing, and in the next, several older people were drinking and laughing.  Still no Natasha or Clint._

_‘Will you even be able to recognize her in a mask, Rogers?’ Steve asked himself.  But he ignored the thought.  As dramatic as it sounded, he didn’t need to recognize her.  He could **feel** it…she was here.  _

_Steve continued as he backtracked, moving to his right now as each new private area came into view.  In the first space, he saw a group of teenagers talking.  They must have been children of some of the statesmen in attendance, because they were the only underage people he could see.  The next two were empty.  The one after that had three men, that looked to be uncomfortable in their tuxedos because they had, either private security or mafia crime connection, written all over them.  Big, grimaced, and slicked back hair…and armed.  Steve saw the gun harnesses under two of the men’s jackets as they turned.  He couldn’t see the third, but he probably had one too._

_Steve made a mental note, but it was probably useless.  There were other men, just like those three, all throughout the crowd.  Private security or henchmen for the politicians and criminals were mixed in with the guests._

_His eyes moved on to the next room.  It had a group of four individuals in the middle of a discussion inside.  Steve kept scanning as he moved onto the last room.  It was empty.  Blowing out a sigh of frustration, he took a drink.  He’d have to find a different vantage point to look elsewhere in one of the other rooms.  He paused as he was about to make his way back down the marble staircase.  His instinct kicked in as the hair on the back on his neck stood up._

_There was something…_

_The whiskey burned down his throat as Steve’s eyes darted back to the second to last room he had just glanced at.  Looking again, his mouth watered as he narrowed his eyes at the group of four people involved in a discussion._

_Steve’s breathing stopped for a moment._

_It stopped, because right below him, only 200 feet away, he stared at an individual with their back facing him.  Steve could tell the group was in a **very** heated discussion.  Pointed fingers, hands on hips, and overall tense body language filled the small vestibule.  Steve quickly looked at the other three individuals.  Even behind their masks, he was able to place the middle-aged man and woman as Ivan and Oksana.  He’d only been around them one other time in person, at their graduation from Quantico, and had only seen them from afar a couple of other times throughout the years.  But their cold and demanding presence was more than memorable.  _

_And they had the same calculating appearance now.  They looked serious, but regal in their ballroom gown and tuxedo.  But there was no mistaking it.  It was them._

_Ivan was only inches away from the woman who had her back to Steve, and it was clear he was talking in a dark and severe tone to her.  Oksana was pointing at the other person…a man, who had started to talk back to her.  She slapped him across the cheek, before she turned her attention to the woman._

_Steve glared at the man’s back.  For a fleeting second, a feeling of jealous rage surged through him.  The feeling instantly subsided though, as the man took off his mask, rubbing his cheek from where Oksana had struck.  Steve saw the side of the man’s face as he turned his head for a second._

_It was Clint._

_Where Oksana, Ivan, and Clint were…only the fourth person remained._

_The petulant voice in Steve’s head mocked him, ‘Why were you feeling jealous?  You’re angry.  Who cares if she was here with another man?  You hate her, right?  You’re here to arrest her, right?’_

_The woman turned the side of her head slightly, and Steve’s nostrils flared.  He knew it was her the moment that he glanced again at the room.  But now he actually saw her…Her high and graceful cheekbone.  The red hair that was tied back in sleek French twist.  The hint of those plump, red lips that he could see the outline of.  Her curvy petite figure, seductively hiding how strong and skilled she was, was covered in a navy blue gown.  It fit her like a glove as Steve felt his fingers tighten around the cold glass._

_The dress was sleeveless with a high back, hiding the pained painting that had already begun to form with tattoos and scars hiding underneath.  It was all hidden from Steve, and he wouldn’t discover them until years from now._

_Right now, he only pictured her as he’d memorized it – with the compass tattoo from the Navy underneath.  His eyes trailed down her back as the fabric hugged her hips before flowing out to the floor._

_Steve swallowed as he saw Natasha pause.  She turned to look at her brother, revealing a high slit up her thigh, and a lot less fabric on the front of her dress.  The gown cut down into her chest in a deep V, revealing her sternum and the soft pale flesh at the top of her stomach._

_Denial may have had a strong hold on Steve, but he wasn’t even **trying** to fool himself right now.  Natasha looked just as radiant…just as beautiful…just as sexy and erotic as always.  She was breathtaking even behind her mask, covered in navy, emerald, and black sequins.  _

_And it pissed him off, but he couldn’t move his eyes from her.  She was almost hypnotizing._

_But movement broke Steve from his trance.  Because now his eyes were glued to the scene unfolding in the tiny space._

_Oksana put her fingers close to Natasha’s chest.  Clint stepped forward, but so did Ivan as he grabbed Natasha’s shoulder…very hard.  It was forceful enough that it made Natasha cower away from them for a moment.  The three imposing men with menacing stances from the previous enclosure, now entered the small space.  They surrounded Clint and Natasha’s backsides._

_One of the men leaned forward and whispered into her ear, but Natasha stepped backward onto his foot, slamming her heel down into his shoe, and she lowered her body so when she moved her elbow backward with a forceful blow, it hit the man where it hurt the most._

_Stubborn and prickly as ever.  This was her world, but it was clear as day, it was Natasha and at least part of her, was still the same woman he’d deniably loved._

_The man she had inflicted pain on looked like he wanted to retaliate, but with one flick of Oksana’s wrist, he stepped back and waited against the wall.  They spoke for a couple more minutes, with stares and demanding movements before Ivan and Oksana were off, with the three brutes trailing behind them._

_Clint looked like he wanted to see if Natasha was okay as she rubbed her arm from where Ivan had grabbed her, but she shoved him away, looking as determined as ever.  It was time to make his move._

_Steve downed the rest of his drink and started to move towards the staircase.  Without a shadow of a doubt, he was staring at Natasha.  And without a shadow of a doubt, Steve was going to encounter her very shortly, in an imperial hall inside a palace, in a far off country.  As their fated paths were about to intertwine, the passage of time Steve trudged through over the last three years would end._

_For the first time, in three **very** long years…three years filled with anger and aching, resentment and denial, and love and loss…Steve and Natasha were going to be face-to-face in each other’s presence, once again._

* * *

**_12 Years Ago -_ **

_“Steve, you have to stop kissing me.  We’re almost there.”_

_Steve grabbed Natasha and held her against his chest, kissing her senselessly again.  It was night time on a Saturday.  It was the night after Tony had walked in on their locker room escapades.  They’d more than made up, and finally came out for air to join their friends at the campfire a day later._

_Fury and May and Coulson had told them to rest up this weekend because Monday marked the start of a new challenge.  They all decided at breakfast this morning to take advantage of their last night where they didn’t have to get up at, god knows when the next morning, and spend it all together.  They’d made it this far after all, just like that…together._

_“God, Steve.  Maybe they won’t miss us.”  Steve pulled his lips from her neck as they stood on the sidewalk.  She was in his sweatshirt, being swallowed up by both the warm fabric and his mouth, and he did need to stop.  Her words snapped him out of it, “Sorry, Nat.  I just can’t help it…But no, you’re right.  We need to stop.”_

_“I was stopped, you big idiot.  But you had to go and start all over again.”_

_Steve wiggled his eyebrows in the moonlight, and the whole scene just made them laugh.  Which was good, they needed a little relief to break them from the spell.  “You’re right, Nat.  I won’t start until after we’ve said goodnight to everyone.  This is important.  We really should hang out with everyone.  Are you gonna be okay though?  It’s the first time we’ll have seen…Tony, since…you know…”_

_Natasha grinned and let out a laugh, “Steve, you are so damn flirtatious and confident with me…almost deviant sometimes.  And you were buried inside me, pounding away in a dark shower of the locker room when Tony saw…literally every inch of us.  But now, you’re too bashful to say, ‘since Tony saw us fucking?’”_

_She gave him a light pinch on the cheek as he reddened with embarrassment.  She loved him even more for it as he said, “Well, you bring that side out in me…what can I say?  And me doing it to you is entirely different than having to hear about it from Stark…for all of eternity.”_

_Natasha pulled him along and a minute later they were at the fire.  Wanda and Bucky had arrived to the predictable razzing of their friends a couple of minutes earlier, so they were only too happy to see Natasha and Steve walk up._

_Everyone started clapping and whistling.  Except Tony.  Tony pretended to be blind as he kept repeating over and over again, “My eyes.  Oh my god, my eyes are burning!” as he fell to the ground and dramatically covered his face._

_Steve and Natasha couldn’t help but laugh at the silliness of it all as Natasha took a seat by Wanda and Loki, and Steve went to sit between Sam and Bucky.  They let it continue for another minute as crude comments about stamina, positions, sanitizing the locker rooms, and make-up sex were thrown out relentlessly towards them._

_They kind of deserved it.  So did Wanda and Bucky.  They had made the team suffer through their stupid fighting most of last week, and the cherry on top of it all, was Sam and Tony walking in on the couples having sex.  Yeah…they definitely deserved the roasting they were receiving._

_So they were good sports about it, and it died down finally as Tony grinned and jokingly mussed up Steve’s hair, “Hey Red, seriously though.  I get some credit for how you did in your driving test…I mean, think of all the stuff I taught you last week, right?”_

_“Sure, Tony.  Whatever you say.”  Natasha drank her water and winked at Steve._

_The friends soaked up the fire and laughter, and took their instructors advice.  They relaxed and had as much sober fun as they could, before finding out whatever Fury had in store for them next week.  They had guesses and hunches thrown out, but no one knew.  So they lived in the moment, in each other’s company, and enjoyed the small amount of downtime as much as they could._

* * *

**Present Day –**

_**Journal Entry** – Seven Years Ago _

_I don’t think I can begin to understand how much my life has changed since a week ago, Steve.  I know you’re angry, full of questions, and feel betrayed.  I know I betrayed you.  And I know you’re probably not sleeping at night.  I hate that I’m not there with you right now, helping soothe your restlessness.  I hate it._

_God I swear, I can smell you in the leather binding of this stupid thing.  I didn’t even know why I grabbed it from our apartment until now.  I left everything else behind because it would have been too hard for me to stop.  If I grabbed a sweatshirt of yours, I would have had to take a pair of your pants and a t-shirt, and then two.  If I took jewelry you gave me, it would have been found.  But I had to have something.  So, I took this…to have a piece of you._

_I think I took it so I could pretend.  Pretend that none of this happened.  Pretend that I’m in our bed, writing in it, like you intended when you gave it to me.  Pretend that I didn’t run away from our life a week ago.  Pretend that I didn’t bring a threat of harm to you and your mother…to Bucky and Wanda and all of our friends._

_I don’t even know what I should write, Steve._

_You wanted me to be able to write about my troubles and dreams and past before I knew you…if I needed to get something out and didn’t feel like talking…or if you were gone when I was feeling the need.  How ironic that I am finally starting to write, and I don’t feel the need to put anything down on these pages about **anything** except you.  Your smell.  Your body.  Your love.  Our life together.  All I can think of…and all I want to write about is you.  _

_Sometimes I feel like our life has been one tragic irony._

_Clint and I have been running non-stop over the last week since I left.  Ivan and Oksana are set on us proving our loyalty to them.  And now that I finally have a moment to breathe from them, the first thing I do…is find the one tangible connection I have to you._

_I told you at Quantico that I was so scared to think of a life without you after Graduation when we had that stupid fight at TEVOC.  You’ll never know this, but that’s all the more true, now.  I can’t bear the thought of you or your family or our friends having been harmed because of my poisonous life, so I made a choice.  A choice you may never know about, or surely will never understand, but one that I had to make in the end._

_I may not get my happy ending with you, but you gave me over five years of happiness I never thought possible in my life, and my heart will always be full of your love because of it.  You’ve spent years trying to protect me, and it’s time I repay the favor.  All my love to you, my Soldier – Nat._

_***_

The thick, leather bound journal with canvas pages landed with a thud on the table next to Steve’s chair.  Clint finally managed to pass out for a few minutes, and Steve warily took Clint up on his offer to start reading Natasha’s journal.  Clint was right…Steve was the starring character in it, and it was _too much_ right now. 

Two pages in, and Steve needed a break as he became overwhelmed.  His tears matched the smudges and wrinkled paper on the pages, from where Natasha had obviously cried while writing it.  This was pain that Steve _could_ avoid at the moment.  So he did, because staring at Natasha, now in a coma in the hospital bed right at his side was more pain that he could already handle.  So was the psychological and emotional pain from the last seven years.  And so was the physical pain he’d endured in the last 24 hours. 

Steve sighed, as he held onto Natasha’s hand and rubbed his head, trying to soothe away any part of his relentless headache that had refused to go away over the last day.  One part of Natasha’s journal entry was _very_ true, even to this day.  It was like she was speaking to him right now through her written words, _“I know you’re probably not sleeping.”_

It was 4:00 am – literally the time he’d gotten up a day ago to go on his run with Bucky and Sam before he even knew Natasha was alive.  It was hard to even begin to fathom everything that’d happened in the last 24 hours.  But the living… _yes, living…_ proof was lying right next to him.  Natasha was alive.  Natasha had been rescued by him and Clint. 

Natasha was in a coma. 

And Steve could not physically stop staring at her right now…It may have been adrenaline, but it was more likely due to the fact that Steve was scared to death to shut his eyes, go to sleep, and wake up to find out that the nightmare he’d lived wasn’t actually real.  That he’d wake up, like he so often had in the last year and a half, to his other nightmare – that she had died 18 months ago.  

It had been over four hours since Steve and Clint had arrived, being welcomed by a room full of guns, and it had been just as crazy and unrealistic during each of those hours, as the entire day.

Dr. Strange, while being arrogant, was as talented as he boasted.  Godlike complex?  Steve didn’t care if the man thought he walked on water, as long as he was successful.  Natasha was wheeled into Med Bay 1 by Rhodey and Thor, who were waiting in scrubs to see if the Doctor needed their assistance with lifting, moving, or holding Natasha. 

Laura had cleaned her up while she put surgical cloth over her, ridding her of her ratty and filthy clothing, if you could even call it that.  And then Dr. Strange and Banner had the anesthetic in Natasha within 30 minutes of his arrival…only for 70’s music to play through his portable speaker he brought with him. 

“I figured you didn’t have a surround system in this tiny surgical suite, so I came prepared, Dr. Banner.” 

Strange’s rules applied while he was in surgery.  That much he made clear to Banner.  So as much as Bruce tried to tell the Doctor that it maybe wasn’t the right time to be playing 1970’s mixed tapes, it was of no use.  “There’s no use in arguing with the man, Dr. Banner.  Just let him listen to his Earth, Wind, and Fire, and we’ll all be in less pain.” Laura had said. 

But as stressful as it may have been in Med Bay 1, where they had just reset Natasha’s shoulder, with a resounding pop, it didn’t even pale in comparison to the level of stress in Med Bay 2, which was really more of a spill over room that had been converted into a waiting room now.  And currently, it was where a _very_ full room of people were feeling worried, anxious, angry, scared, and tense. 

The clock ticked.

There were nine…very tired and demanding adults in the adjacent room to the surgical suite.  The problem was, there was really only space, comfortably for six.  While it wasn’t crowded to the point that anyone was sitting on top of each other, it _was_ full enough to make them all feel compressed, increasing their internal demand for answers. 

Tony, Sam, Fury, and Loki sat on the couch and chairs, shifting their stares between the large glass window, seeing Natasha on the other side, and to Clint and Steve…who leaned against the counter as Bucky, Maria, and Wanda worked on them. 

The only sounds to accompany the quiet, besides the faded stereo sound through the window, were the sighs and groans from the two battered men adding to the quiet as they were picked and prodded at.  Clint winced as Maria put antiseptic on his cuts, which she’d lost count of 15 minutes ago. 

And Steve…stood in an undershirt and his boxers as Wanda cleaned up his forearm after stitching and wrapping it, while Bucky worked on suturing his bicep.  Bruce was right…Steve had looked like he was at Death’s doorstep.  He still did, even after being cleaned up a bit.  His eyes kept involuntarily moving back to the window as Wanda kept forcing his face back towards her as she put two butterfly bandages over his brow.  And another on his cheek after she’d scrubbed it clean with alcohol. 

There was so much apprehension in the air, that Loki wasn’t even tempted to make a joke or retort.  He was frozen with the same questions as everyone. 

But it wasn’t just the obvious tension with everyone wanting to know what’d happened that existed in Med Bay 2.  It was also the fact that Bucky and Steve hadn’t talked alone yet, and didn’t see an opportunity in the immediate future to do so.  Bucky was so grateful he was alive that he could cry.  He did cry earlier.  But Bucky was equally _livid_ with his stupid brother for his reckless behavior…and for lying to him (again.) 

It was the fact that Natasha, a woman thought to be dead and who’d betrayed the team seven years ago.  And now, she was in the next room as they all watched nervously as Strange started cutting into her side.  It was the fact that they’d been worried sick for Steve, and here he was, not talking, or being unable to talk or process anything, because all he could do was Stare at Natasha’s body, and her heart monitor…ever keeping an eye on her proof of life.

The scars wouldn’t be pretty, but Bucky and Wanda had done a successful job of stitching his arms up.  Honestly?  His face didn’t look that much better than when he came in.  He’d been hit and punched so many times, that the end of the movie _Rocky_ came to mind. 

Which left the more worrisome wound (his thigh) and the most worrisome of pending issues (the truth) to be addressed. 

Stark went first.  If he would be labeled an asshole, he didn’t really care in the moment.  It was approaching 1 am, “While Wanda and Bucky play the game of Operation with Steve’s body…and while a _very alive_ Natasha Romanoff literally gets operated on 20 feet away, do you think that maybe we can…I don’t know, start to get some answers?”

The first sound out of Steve was a grunt as Bucky put a liberal amount of peroxide and alcohol on the back of his thigh.  Steve knew this was coming.  And he didn’t know where to begin as he looked down at his brother, and then at Wanda, and then over to Clint, before staring at Natasha again. 

Walt Whitman said long ago, “Keep your face always toward the sunshine – and shadows will fall behind you.”

Steve just needed to fall into that metaphorical light.  He needed to pick a spot to start, and the truth would follow.  He’d told Natasha that 12 years ago, when she started to unveil her tragic tale to him.  She had responded that a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. 

The same was _so very_ true, right now.  And it was time for Steve to take his own advice, and unveil everything to his friends and family. 

So…that’s what he did.  Steve started at the beginning, all the way back at Quantico, with how he’d known about Natasha’s past and handlers and Russian training program from the (almost) very beginning.  Steve could have just started at when Natasha left.  But he figured that he had a lot of good will and trust to gain back from the team. 

Most of the team had an idea that Steve knew more than what he’d let on over the years, but not to this extent.  No one had any idea that he willingly kept something from the team about Natasha from the get go.  No one except Bucky and Wanda.  And they only knew the initial information that Steve knew about.  And only because he came clean to Bucky seven years ago. 

Steve didn’t touch on the fact that Bucky and Wanda found out about Steve’s knowledge about what they’d all learned after she left.  This wasn’t about that.  This whole situation…The demand for answers in the room…was about Steve.  Steve’s search.  His lies.  And his actions that he’d been keeping from everyone in the interim.     

The secrets.  The lies.  It was like the valve was taken off of a fire hydrant as everything came spewing out.  _Everything._   Including the justifications Steve made in keeping those secrets and lies early on, believing with 100 percent certainty that Natasha was choosing the FBI and this country…and him. 

“For five years, every line I had crossed, and every justification I had made was okay with me…as wrong as it was…because Nat was one of us.  100 percent she was one of us.”  Steve’s voice sounded as tired as he looked. 

Clint confirmed his words as Fury said, “No offense, Barton, but I’d like to hear what my lead agent has to say.”  Clint groaned, “You got it, I’d rather stand in silence anyway.”  He went back to watching his sister, and the nurse, Laura.  He didn’t know why, but he found her eyes and demeanor calming.  Strange was arrogant.  Bruce bantered with him.  Thor and Rhodey stood awkwardly in the background.  But Laura…was quiet and strong and calm, like the needed constant in a room for the Doctor’s to bounce off of.  If she was calm, Clint was soothed, because that meant everything was going okay. 

10 minutes in, and the surgery _was_ going okay. 

So, Steve continued telling everyone about Russia, and how he’d taught himself the language, gone there on his own after working with Colonel Phillips.  Bucky scoffed as he muttered while sticking a cotton swab full of peroxide a little harsher into Steve’s thigh than was probably necessary, “I can’t fucking believe you trusted that old angry coot more than me.”

Yeah, that was a metaphorical can that got kicked down the road as Steve gripped the counter and Wanda glared at her husband.  She felt the same way, honestly, but now _wasn’t_ the time.

Steve went through everything from the trip, and how he’d gotten back from Russia, even more determined to find her again, “Buck, I know you’re furious with me…but ask yourself, what would you do if it was Wanda?”

Bucky had asked himself that exact question over the course of the day…and it was impossible to know right now what his actual answer was.  Flying off on his own to try and save her, like Steve had done earlier today to save Natasha?  Absolutely, yes.  Bucky understood _that_ mentality in Steve.  But the secrets…for so damn long, and after Bucky thought they’d moved past that after Steve had come clean with everything about Quantico after Natasha left.

Needless to say, it was weighing on both brothers heavily right now. 

Steve went through the endless nights, searching for her on the dark web.  And then he told them all about the cabin, two years ago. 

“I’m done lying to you all.  I can honestly tell you, I went to Russia with every intention of bringing Natasha back, and arresting her.  But the cabin?  Two years ago?  I wasn’t foolish enough at that point to convince myself otherwise.  I was only there because I loved her…and couldn’t live without her anymore.  It was the same for her, except she was there to tell me goodbye…because she thought she needed to set me free.”

Everything clicked.  _Everything._  

Bucky thought back to that time period.  Now knowing it was after Steve had returned from the cabin.  His mood swings were through the roof in the aftermath.  Wanda understood as things fell into place for her too.  She remembered back to when Steve snapped at her, and all she could think in this moment, was how lost Steve had been…truly for the last seven years.  He’d been able to be an excellent agent for the most part…but his personal life had been in shambles. 

Wanda was furious at him for lying to her and to Bucky after he’d promised he was done with it after he initially came clean to them.  But Wanda also knew the significance of Natasha telling him goodbye.  So, even though Steve had been wrong to keep all of this from his team.  From her.  From Bucky…A big part of her, really just felt so incredibly sad for her brother-in-law.  He’d been _so alone_ for so many years, and all of this had been weighing him down at night.  He’d done all of it on his own, and 18 months ago…he thought he lost her anyway. 

It was all too much.  The pain trumped her anger for now.   

Wanda also knew Bucky would’ve acted almost exactly as Steve had.  Maybe not initially at Quantico.  But who knows.  How could any of them truly know?  The truth was, none of them had ever experienced anything like Natasha and Steve’s origin story. 

It may have sounded clichéd, but cliché’s start from somewhere, right?  A real, practical example at some point, created a cliché.  And Natasha’s life…Steve’s choices over the last 12 years...And _their_ love story, clichéd or not…was very real.  It was a one of a kind love story that the writings from the Greeks and Romans and Shakespeare depicted.  Those type of stories stood the test of time. 

And right now?  Wanda’s heart ached…for both Natasha and Steve.  Now that they were in each other’s presence again, after all this time?  Well…Wanda only hoped they would somehow stand the test of time as well.

30 minutes ticked by as the surgery continued and Earth, Wind, and Fire turned to James Brown, then Marvin Gaye, The Who, and The Rolling Stones all in that timespan.  Another song played, sounding muted through the walls now. 

Steve told everyone about Natasha and Clint’s plan to disassemble Poseidon over the last four years.  He went through her tattoos, and her scars he’d discovered two years ago at the cabin.  Steve told them all about Clint…his team with Jessica Jones…and Natasha, _single handedly_ taking down the criminals and six Poseidon operatives in Kazakhstan.  And in doing so, delaying Poseidon’s overall plan of attack by stopping over a billion dollars of funding flowing through their operations.

“I was doing it too…but for Tasha, her goal was so much more personal.  She was cleaning out the red in her ledger.  Or at least trying to.”  Clint mumbled, and this time, no one stopped him.  The room was in a personal state of shock hearing all of the horrifying details. 

Steve told them, that the reason Natasha left to begin with seven years ago, was to protect all of them.  He went through the day Bucky and Sam were in the car accident.  And when Wanda and Sarah were stuck in the elevator.  “It was all Poseidon.  It was all hers’ and Clint’s handlers, plotting their sadistic torture on her.  She never wanted to do any of it.  I know she had a choice, and I was so mad at her for not telling me about it.  I still wish she would have.  But I can also look at her in there on that table and ask myself now, ‘What would I have done if I had the same life as her?  The answer is, I don’t know.”

The state of shock in the room went to unthinkable heights as Steve’s voice cracked. 

He had lamented Natasha for not coming to him initially, back at the cabin, on that shattering morning she cuffed him to a table and ran out.  But after the last seven years, and seeing just how far Ivan and Oksana and their thugs would go, to exact the torture and sadistic revenge they had, Steve knew that Natasha truly felt like she was doing what she _had to,_ in order to save her loved ones…to save and protect him. 

Bucky had numbed Steve’s leg, had used some surgical glue and staples in it.  Maria and Loki had flinched at the sound of each staple going into his thigh, but Steve didn’t even notice anymore.  He was in too much of a trance. 

And then Steve got to 21 months ago, and went through everything Clint had told him about Barton and his sister both being beaten initially when they got back from Kazakhstan.  About their plans of faking their deaths being blown to pieces before they could escape.  About Clint seeing her for the last time, and Natasha telling him goodbye too…and how she’d given up. 

And then about Oksana finding her journal, and her being gone, never to be seen again…until tonight.   And he went through every gruesome detail of the rescue operation, from Natasha hanging by the rafters, to Clint’s team and him having to kill 20 Russians…to the tear gas…to Clint and his fight on the gravel lot. 

All of it.  No stone was left unturned.

“I found her right where I last saw her.  Right where she told me goodbye.  And I carried her back to the car to drive back to all of you tonight.”

Steve was at the end of his rope emotionally, and was trying to hang on, but there was nothing left to say.  He was left with everyone’s saddened and shocked expressions, and he crumbled.  Right into Bucky and Wanda’s arms as he couldn’t hold back his tears anymore, “I’m so sorry Bucky.  I just…”

“Not now, Steve.  It’s okay.  You’re here and that’s all that matters now.”

Bucky’s anger was still there.  The fallout and reckoning would still come.  But right now?  Steve was a mess.  And Bucky believed every word of what he’d just said.  Honestly, Steve didn’t have the emotional wherewithal right now to lie to them anymore. 

Bucky couldn’t help but feel everything that Wanda and everyone else was feeling in the moment.  This whole situation was FUBAR and tragic and like a Greek tragedy.  And it was too late…or early…to focus on the anger right now.  They could hash it out tomorrow or the next day or the day after that.  Steve had been to the depths of hell with Clint, to get Natasha back, and everyone could see the physical consequences of their choices all over their faces and bodies.

“Rogers,” Clint started, drawing Steve’s attention from his brother and Wanda’s arms, “We need to talk about securing this place.”

Right.  Because there may not have been time for anger, but there wasn’t time for resting right now either.  _This_ was far too important.

Clint spoke to the rest of the room, “I uh…I know I have a lot to prove as far as any of you even being willing to hear me out…but please believe Steve.  These people…Poseidon.  They’re not to be underestimated.  We still have a little time I think, so…Assistant Director Fury.  If you would extend your ears a little longer, I think it would be worth it, if your team wiped Rogers’ car from any CCTV footage, and from the security cameras.”

Clint was nervous, but Steve’s voice came through, “Nick.  They can’t know Nat and Clint are here.  They’ll kill them…and me…and won’t stop there.” 

Fury was livid.  And not at Steve anymore. 

Yes, he’d have a talking to Steve about his reckless behavior.  And yes, there would be some trust issues and consequences.  And yes, he was disappointed in Steve’s actions, even though on some level, he understood.  But more than any of that, Fury was irate that his government had been infiltrated. 

He felt attacked. 

“Rogers, I’m sorry.  I really am, and we’ll talk more about the travesties of Barton and Romanoff…and your shared histories later.  But what I’m taking from this, is that you’re telling me, a team of 20 or so, Russian foreign criminals, lured you in to attack you, on U.S. soil tonight.  They tried to take down one of the FBI’s lead agents…all for some personal vendetta?  And you’re telling me that these people are the same goddamn people planning some big attack on America?”

Now it was Steve and Clint’s turn to be shocked.  Fury for all his mind games and secrets over the years, had learned from his mistakes with Loki, to not throw a good agent out on a whim…Good soldiers.  Good agents.  Good people…were a rarity in life, and even harder to keep.  He had his team back right now, and he’d be goddamned if a terrorist organization was going to pull them apart.

The rest of the team was off at Fury’s direction.  People could hash out sore feelings and emotions later.  Steve was the physical embodiment of an open book right now and had shared _everything._   So questions and concerns remained, but demands for answers had tempered. 

Loki and Wanda went to wipe cameras and security footage, making Clint, Steve, and Natasha disappear from existence, “Sorry for the dramatics earlier, Rogers.  You know me though…For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re alive.  And only you could have mustered the heroics you did to bring Natasha back with you.” 

Loki was being as sincere as he could be in the moment, and for what it was worth, Steve nodded thankfully at him.  What a twisted day it had been for the two of them. 

Bucky found Steve a clean pair of his pants from the lockers and Steve got dressed again, after being bandaged up, “Later, Steve.  We’ll talk later…what matters now is that you and Nat are safe, and we’re all going to keep each other that way.”

Bucky, Maria, Sam and Tony went to convert a large room past the Medical Bays into a makeshift hospital suite.  Maria and Sam awkwardly smiled at Clint and gave Steve a huge hug, wiping their own eyes.  Tony gave a nod to Barton and stopped in front of Steve, smirking, “You know Rogers…I think this is what I miss about working with you the most…you’re stubborn as hell and keep me on my toes.  You always have.”

There was so much behind the statement that was unspoken.  Tony and Steve’s rivalry had been truly a friendly rivalry for most of their time.  Infuriating recently?  Yes…because of hurt feelings.  But Tony, in his heart, was just so damn happy that Rogers was alive, and he like everyone else, couldn’t even begin to imagine what Steve and Clint…and Natasha were going through. 

He patted Steve on the arms, but accidentally hit his bicep where he’d been cut, “Oh, sorry man.  But you know, if I could only hit you where you haven’t been injured…well, that doesn’t leave too many places, now does it?”  Steve shook his head, and nodded, silently thanking Tony. 

And then Stark was off, making some calls for late night deliveries with his trusted friend, Happy, to help convert the room down a secret hallway to keep this operation under wraps.  Wanda said she could block any security feeds from hitting the area they’d keep Natasha in, except for her lab. 

Fury said he’d be able to handle the curiosity and questions that would surely come, by saying the back hallway that was locked and restricted, was where they were keeping Loki during the day, and he’d be in a private holding cell downstairs at night.  And that the task-force was going to work in the same area because it was such a high risk operation.  For now, it would work.  Fury nodded to both men, “Rogers, I echo what your brother said.  There’s plenty of time for us to discuss all of this later.  For what it’s worth…I’m glad your stubborn and stupid ass is alive.  And I’m glad you gave those bastards hell.”

That left Steve and Clint, bandaged and cleaned up (somewhat), but looking as dead tired as ever.  They couldn’t sit, so they waited five more minutes until Strange and Banner came inside.  Laura was wrapping Natasha’s hands and legs and feet in medicated bandages, trying to help her burns and cuts and bruises heal a little faster. 

“What is it, Bruce?” Steve asked with desperation.

Strange spoke over, “As the acting Surgeon, I think I should be the one to let you know…the surgery was successful, but she has a long road to recovery…physically.  Mentally, well…Banner, I’ll actually say that is an area that you preside over me in.”

Bruce shook his head, “Steve, Natasha’s going to need several blood transfusions.  She’ll need constant supervision and constant fluids and nutrients going into her because she won’t be able to eat.”

Clint and Steve looked at him with open eyes, “Dr. Strange believes…and I agree, that the best thing for Natasha, is to put her in a medically induced coma…to help her avoiding infection, and to keep her heart rate and vitals under medical control, hopefully.  Her body is…”

“Oh Bruce, just rip the bandage off,” Strange started, “She stands a much higher chance at recovering successfully in a coma versus being awake.  Her trauma is too great right now, and since you didn’t turn off the speaker between the two rooms, we got to hear every detail of your saga, Mr. Rogers…It is…quite traumatic.”

Clint froze.  That meant Laura heard everything too.  He didn’t know why, but it unnerved him.  Steve let out a breath…at least Rhodey and Thor and Bruce heard everything, so he wouldn’t have to repeat himself again. 

Bruce added, “Steve, Natasha’s a hell of a fighter, and it’ll prevent her from healing because if she’s awake, she’ll could fight with every ounce of strength she has to pull chords, scratch her bandages off…because she won’t recognize anything.”

Clint and Steve looked at each other, knowing it was their decision to make…in this off the books surgery, in this non-existence hospital, with a surgeon who would undeniably lie about ever doing anything tonight of the sorts.

“Do it.”  They said simultaneously. 

Dr. Strange was not spoken highly of, with regards to bedside manner.  But this situation even had him…respecting how much this trio of traumatized people had been through, “Rogers, Barton…For what it’s worth, I’ve seen a lot of people die under much lesser travesties.  For all intents and purposes, Miss Romanoff should be dead.”

If this was his bedside manner, they hated to see what he was like when he was just being blunt, “She’s a fighter is what I’m saying.  And she’ll need to be if she’s going to come out on the other side of this.”

And then his ounce (and only an ounce) of sympathy was gone, “I’ll medically induce her.  Banner can handle the transfusion.  My nurse will be by daily to bath and clean her and check her vitals to keep me updated, and I’ll be by two other times this week.  Bruce, you figure out the reason why I need to visit.  I already put in the paperwork, showing that Laura is doing a job shadow with you…I must say, I do like this espionage side to my work.”

And then Dr. Strange was gone from the room, just as quickly as he came.  He’d be back later in the week, but like so much of today, the moment passed in a flurry. 

By 3:00 am, Natasha was in her forced resting state, looking like she was hanging on by a thread.  And being hidden in a faked medical suite in a locked hallway, down from Fury’s office, interrogation rooms, bullpen, lab, and conference room. 

Stark apparently had access to movers in the middle of the night, because with the help of Wanda and Loki blocking security footage, Happy Hogan and some of his men had delivered a top of the line medical bed, some Recliners, a couch and some additional seating, as well as a fridge, coffee bar, and TV.  The room was adjacent to some bathrooms, so they were all set. 

Fury had told the task-force at 3:15 to all get out of there.  He wasn’t going home because other early bird agents would start arriving in about an hour, and they had to keep up appearances.  So he’d just shower and get ready here.  Loki was put in a private holding cell, away from the rest of the criminals the FBI had in the building, and Steve and Clint?  One by one, everyone said goodnight to them, gave them unavoidable pitied looks, and left them alone with their emotions, each other, and a comatose Natasha. 

“You know I have to tell Mom, pretty much everything you’ve told me right?  And that maybe… _maybe_ I can keep her away for a day.  But she’s going to come here.  Just be prepared for that, Steve…We’ll get to everything else later…But right now, just remember, I love you, Punk.”

Steve sniffed, “I love you too, jerk.”  It wasn’t over.  Not by a long shot.  But it was a start as Bucky hugged Steve and said goodnight. 

That left Clint, very passed out right now, and Steve staring at Natasha’s chest rising and falling as he held onto her hand, watching the clock on the table tick.  No, he wasn’t getting any sleep tonight, so maybe he’d try that damn journal again.

* * *

_**Journal Entry** – Five Years Ago_

_I don’t even know when the last time I wrote in this damn thing was…but it’s been a little over two years now since I left, and I keep coming back…to my only piece of you.  It’s the middle of the night right now.  And the moon is so full.  God, I can get lost in looking at it…almost like we are looking up at the sky at Quantico on that hill again.  I wonder if you’re awake, drawing…trying to rest that beautiful mind right now, Steve.  Or if your staring at the ceiling like I so often have, lost in your thoughts.  Or maybe you have finally begun to rest, now that I’m not weighing you down anymore._

_I know Bucky and Wanda’s wedding is coming up…and I don’t even think I can begin to write about that.  It’s too hard right now.  But please remember to tell Wanda that she’s beautiful…I know she’ll make a lovely bride.  I wish…No.  I can’t begin to write about that either._

_I found out that Tony and Rhodey left the team for the CIA.  After Maria and Thor already left last year.  Don’t ask how I found out…right?  Like you could ask, or like you can hear me tell you, to remember to tell Wanda she’ll be beautiful on her wedding day…because we talk so much, right Rogers?_

_Anyway, it makes me sad that the team isn’t all together anymore.  I guess it hasn’t been ever since Loki was kicked out, huh?  And then I really had to go and ruin everything.  There’s your favorite side of me, being stubborn, popping out to say hello right now.  She’ll never go away, no matter how many times you wish she would.  She won’t go away, just like she won’t let me stop coming back to you here, in these pages surrounded by leather.  Surrounded by you._

_What I would give to be surrounded by your arms and body right now, Steve.  But I fear you wouldn’t want me with the red I’ve collected in my ledger over the past two years, completing Ivan and Oksana’s tests and tasks and missions.  I’ll fill it with red though, if that’s the path I have to walk.  Because the important thing, is they’ve bought in to me and Clint being with them.  The important thing is that they’ll leave you and everyone else alone._

_If you saw my back right now, maybe I’d be as unrecognizable to you as I feel at times.  There are some burn scars and tattoos that Ivan and Oksana felt like I needed to have, branding me to constantly remind me where my loyalties lie.  But my biggest branding of all is somewhere they cannot even touch.  Somewhere, where only you can reach.  Their demands cannot spread to the depths of my heart, where your love has branded me forever, Steve.  Because that is yours and always will be._

_Sometimes I feel like I’m writing to someone off at war when I write to you here.  I pretend I send it off into the mail, believing the message will find you somehow.  Even though I know these words will never reach you, I wonder if somehow you’ll hear me.  I wonder if you can still feel me at night, when we’re both lost in our thoughts._

_Sometimes…sometimes I wonder if it would have been better if we would’ve never met, Steve.  You wouldn’t know the pain that I caused you.  I wouldn’t be feeling like I’m missing part of myself every night when I try to sleep.  Whoever said, ‘It’s better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all?’  I don’t think they knew what the hell they were talking about._

_Or maybe they did.  Because the thought of not having your beautiful face and our memories to soothe me at night, well that’s almost more painful than having to leave you.  Maybe the pain is good in a way…to remind me that I had something real.  Something good and true for a while.  To remind me that I still love you, and always will.  I hear some people in the hall, so I have to go now.  All my love to you, my Soldier – Nat._

_***_

_**Journal Entry** – Three Years Ago_

_I hate this, Rogers.  It’s been four years.  Four years of missing and thinking about you every night.  I’ve been telling you this, every time I’ve written to you over the last couple of years.  It keeps getting harder and harder to keep my head straight._

_It already was hard, but then you had to come and find me in Russia, Steve.  God you’re the most stubborn man still!  I don’t think you’ll ever realize how dangerous it was for you to do something stupid and careless like that.  Weren’t you always scolding me at Quantico and in the FBI for being the reckless one?  What is the matter with you?   You could have gotten yourself killed…Your family needs you.  Bucky and Sarah.  Wanda and Peter.  It’s so hard knowing I’ll never meet him._

_Fuck everything._

_Sorry, it’s harsh, but it’s how I feel.  I just…I don’t know.  I miss you so much, and Clint and I…we started something after you found me in Russia.  It could be something big…a chance.  Maybe not for you and me, but for my brother and I to do what is right.  A chance to start righting some of the wrongs.  We found some people to help right those wrongs with.  It’s something…but all it does is make me miss you more at night.  Do you know how many times I have touched myself thinking of you, trying to chase just a taste of what we had?  It never even comes close to how I felt with you, and yet I still can’t think of anything else but you._

_I told you a long time ago that I was worried if I’d be strong enough in my life without you by my side.  For a couple of years there…before Russia…I really didn’t think I was going to make it much longer.  I couldn’t keep doing what they asked of Clint and I, knowing I had thrown our life away.  But now…I don’t know.  Clint and I have a purpose.  If I can’t be with you, I’m damn sure going to make them pay…for everything.  I just wish…I could be with you again._

_I sound pathetic right?  Your controlled, Natasha, bouncing all over the place with her emotions.  Do you feel this lost?  Another question for another day, which will follow another restless night of missing you.  I say this, every time, but I mean it more and more with each passage of time as well.  All my love to you, my Soldier – Nat._

_***_

_**Journal Entry** – 21 Months Ago_ 

_Tomorrow Clint and I are off to Kazakhstan, Steve.  I think that’s why I needed to talk to you.  I don’t know how to tell you this.  But I don’t know…if we’re going to come back from this mission or not, but I just hope you know somewhere either in a dream or another life, that this is a big one.  And Clint and I are going to stop whatever fucking flow of money Ivan and Oksana’s people in Russia think they have coming.  They may have taken our opportunity at a life together, but they won’t take my fight.  I’ll always fight.  For you._

_I know you’re still hurt by me leaving and saying goodbye to you.  It hurts me too, because I would give anything for you to be kissing my back right now, brushing my hair away, kissing along my burns and tattoos.  You did that in the cabin, and I am still soothed by your lips’ lasting touch on my skin.  You imprinted on me long ago, Steven Grant Rogers.  And that will never go away.  No matter how many miles are between us.  No matter how much time goes by._

_You infected me with your goodness and love, long ago.  I know I ran.  I know I betrayed.  I know I said goodbye.  But Steve?  You need to know.  God, I hope you know.  You changed me for the better.  And what Clint and I are about to do when we leave tomorrow?  I don’t think I would have ever had the strength or courage to do something like it, without your love guiding me._

_I have been lost over the last five years at night without you.  But this…this mission is something good.  It’s atonement.  It’s vengeance.  It’s my penance for my sins in this life.  They need to be paid, but I had to come back here, at least one last time.  God I hope I get to meet you here again.  I hope I get to visit you in the pages between this leather that you gave to me, where only you and I exist.  Where I can drown out all of the madness, and just be with you.  I swear…I can still smell you, every so faintly on the edges of this beautiful binding._

_Maybe that’s me remembering our weekend at the cabin three months ago.  A weekend of memories so beautiful and so painful.  I’ve always been more selfish than you, Soldier.  I told you goodbye, but I can’t ever let go…not really.  I meant what I said.  I want you to live, I want you to fly.  I want you to be free of everything I’ve kept you from for all these years._

_But…right here…within these leather walls.  In this secret place, when it’s only me…and the part of you that I’ve selfishly kept here, just for me.  The part of you that will never read this…I’ll tell you, Steve…wait for me.  If there’s a chance, wait for me._

_If I survive…If Clint and I succeed and we get away…I’ll find you again somehow.  We have always found each other, and part of me dreams hopelessly, that we will again someday.  I can say that here.  I can say that to you.  I can say that, knowing you’ll probably never forgive me for betraying and running and saying goodbye.  I can say that, when it’s just this silent version of you, letting me etch my words from my heart into the canvas of your soul.  Sometimes, I think I’m going crazy when I write to you._

_But sometimes, I think…maybe it’s not crazy at all.  Maybe in a way, this is you, giving me the strength still, to find a piece of you within me each day, pushing me forward to do good.  To do better.  To do what’s right.  If you do wait for me, and I find you, I swear I will somehow make it right.  I have to, Steve.  Because what I told you long ago, and what I said at the cabin has always been true.  You’re my forever, and you always will be.  All my love to you, my Soldier – Nat._

* * *

One week had passed.

For almost seven days and nights, Natasha had been into a forced sleep state, so her body could attempt to heal and fight off any infection.  Maybe Dr. Strange should have put Steve into the same state, because he’d done almost anything but rest. 

For a week Steve and Clint had been cooped up in the makeshift room that Tony and the team had assembled.  And it wasn’t that the accommodations weren’t comfortable.  They were.  It was Tony, so, everything he’d arranged to be there – from the towels to the sofa and to the recliners - were all top of the line.  Tony even arranged for an exercise bike and treadmill to be set up in a room next door, right beside the meeting room that had been put together (and all delivered in the middle of the night of course.)  All of that, with a bathroom and shower in the same hallway, made the absolute necessities of life, available at Steve and Clint’s fingertips.  Considering the entire setup didn’t exist a week ago, and the hallway had just been dusty and abandoned, waiting to be repurposed, it was all _very_ impressive.

It wasn’t the amenities, but it _was_ all of the intangible items that made it such an exhausting week.  The team had learned _everything_ about Steve and Clint and Natasha, and Fury had reported all of the task-force’s findings to Rogers and Barton as well.  They had shifted most of their operations down to the meeting room by Natasha. 

For protection and safety, is what Fury had told Steve.  Rogers had a hunch though, that it was more of an operation of babysitting him…to make sure he wasn’t about to lose it at some point, more than anything. 

The morning go through meetings were in the room right next door, Wanda had set up security cameras outside the locked fire doors to the hallway, and outside of Natasha’s room from every angle, so the team could look out for any curious FBI Agents.  There weren’t any.  Maybe they should have been surprised, but Fury had told the rest of the floor that his task-force was working in private to bring down more of Loki’s network since they’d arrested him.  It was the same thing he’d told Secretary Ross, and everyone’s bosses in each agency. 

Fury’s floor.  Fury’s secrets.  Fury’s rules. 

It worked, just like at Quantico…For now, at least.

And Fury had stopped in every morning around 4:30 am when he got to work, every afternoon, and every evening around 6:30 pm to check on Steve before he went home.  He did his best to help Steve feel like he was still the lead agent of the team. 

Fury forced Rogers to come to the morning and end of day meetings, and gave him a laptop and boxes of files each day to go through while he waited in the room.  Fury didn’t force anything else though…Because until Natasha woke up, Steve wouldn’t be pulled away from her bedside longer than those short passages of time. 

So the Assistant Director and Rogers talked about what the team found each night through searching, and what Steve had found looking through files and his own laptop.  The answer was the same for both.  A whole lot of nothing.

More data patterns, indicating the D.O.D. and State Department were filled with dirty agents.  More Lemurian Star money trails that weren’t turning over any new leaves as of yet.  And more vague behavior by Jasper Sitwell, the only face and name they had to go on at the moment.  “Something will turn up, Rogers.  We just need to keep trying.  Keep your head up.  We’ll find the bastards,” Fury had told him last night on his way out.

During the morning and afternoons, the team worked, and constantly stopped in like a revolving door to check on Steve and Clint and Natasha.  And at night, the task-force took turns, working the night shift.  Loki had to stay in a private holding cell to keep up appearances for right now (until his house arrest was officially put into order,) and everyone else paired up.  Bruce and Thor, Wanda and Maria, Sam and Bucky, Rhodey and Tony.  Seven nights of the pairs rotating round and round, waiting for the bottom to fall out with Steve. 

And Steve…well, if he were thinking straight, he couldn’t blame them for waiting and hovering.  The man’s face had started to look more like itself versus a beaten punching bag, but he still limped profusely from his healing thigh, and his nerves were constantly shooting off at any random sound he heard.  And of course he wasn’t sleeping.  Banner had given him some mild sedatives the last few nights even.  Steve maybe squeezed an hour or two of random sleep from it, but each time he shut his eyes, he’d wake up, panicked and thinking of Natasha scratching herself.  Natasha’s eyes being filled with so much fear in the cabin.  Natasha hanging from the rafter in the cabin.  And Natasha’s body in those pictures from 18 months ago. 

Clint was restless and worried, but not like Steve.  Because it was _different_ to be scared for someone you love versus someone you are in love with.  Plus, Clint didn’t have to live with believing Natasha was dead for a year and a half…and he wasn’t the one to find her in the cabin.  And Barton attempted to at least try to clear his head from time to time.  He went to help out the team in the meeting room where he could, and used the exercise equipment several times a day.  He even finally suggested to Steve yesterday, “Rogers, I’m not one to give out life or health advice.  But you really should try to shut your eyes and get some more rest…Natasha is actually starting to look better than you…No offense.”

Blunt but truthful.  That was Barton. 

And Steve?  No such attempts at clearing his head were made.  Beyond those 60-minute team meetings, and jumping in a quick shower each day, Steve hadn’t left Natasha’s bedside. 

Restless in his body.  Restless in his mind.  Restless in his heart.

With the evenings being filled with the team members stopping in, Steve, couldn’t really blame them.  He was actually glad to have the distraction.  The two times Tony and Rhodey had been in, it’d given Steve the opportunity to actually talk with Tony privately about something he needed to discuss.  Wanda and Maria brought Loki with them each time, with them intermittently crying just as hard as they had when they first saw Natasha a week ago. 

Bruce saw her every day to check her vitals, so he and Thor had only been in on one evening.  And Sam and Bucky…well, that definitely didn’t help matters much with regards to Steve’s mental health.  He felt an immense guilt about lying to Bucky, more so with each passing day.  And while they had hugged each other a week ago, and while Bucky had jokingly called him punk after patching him up, they still hadn’t really talked things through. 

It was festering, which was never good, because festering led to boiling over at some point.

Clint commented a day ago to Steve, “You and your brother remind me of Tasha and I when we’re fighting.  Stubborn as ever, but you’ll be okay.  He is just worried about you.”

A few nights ago, Bucky actually brought Sarah with him and Sam.  Bucky had warned Steve he’d have to tell her the night of the surgery.  And while Steve had talked to his mother on the phone, to try and calm her down, reminding her he was safe…it was no use. 

Sarah demanded that Bucky find a way to get her in there.  So Wanda blocked the traffic camera feed and Sam and Bucky snuck her in late.  He nodded at his brother, telling him silently he had no choice in the matter.  Steve huffed out a breath, knowing that Sarah could be just as tenacious as her sons.

So, when she did show up?  Well, she looked like a mother who almost lost her son without knowing it.  It was with twisted irony that Steve realized Sarah had a similar reaction to Steve almost being killed without her being aware of his actions…as Steve did when he’d first found the bullet hole scars on Natasha’s back at the cabin. 

Steve and Natasha’s fated paths had not only brought them together time and time, again in their life, but had led them down similar roads when they were apart. 

Sarah was stricken with worry as she took in the scene of first Steve, and then Clint, and then Natasha as her hand came over her mouth.  “Mom, what are you?”

“Steven Grant Rogers, I cannot believe you.”  Steve stood up, wincing from the pain in his leg and sighed.  He thought he was going to be scolded by Sarah, but she brought him into a loving embrace, “I have never been _so_ mad at you and _so_ happy that you’re okay.”

Sarah brought Steve’s face into her hands as she looked at his slowly healing cuts and bruises.  She ran her hands down his bandaged arms as she started tearing up, “You could have been killed, Steve.  And not just last night.  You could have been killed in Russia, or at that cabin.”

Steve love Bucky and Wanda and Sarah…and everyone else.  But he couldn’t do this right now, not with Natasha… _alive_ …beside him.  In the end, wasn’t that what this was about?

“Mom, I could be killed any day in this job.  What I did…I regret lying to you and Buck and everyone.  I _really_ do.  And I’m sorry.  But what I don’t regret…is anything else.  How could I?  I would do it again in a heartbeat, because she’s here, Mom.  Nat’s alive.”

Ends justifying the means.  Denial.  Immense pain.  There was _a lot_ to unpack behind his words, but Sarah just frowned as her tears came down, hugging him again before looking down to take in Natasha again.  She closed her eyes and took a breath, and did what Sarah Rogers does best. 

She led with her heart. 

Sarah went over to Natasha and placed her hands gently over hers at her side, “Natasha, please wake up soon, so my son and your brother can get some rest…and so you and I can have a talk…I’ve never been happier to see someone again that I never thought possible.”  She leaned over to kiss her on the forehead and stepped back.

It wasn’t overly loving, but it was honest and from the heart.  It was Sarah. 

And Sarah loved Natasha.  Just like she loved Wanda.  And she was _devastated_ at the news of her death.  But hearing all of what she’d done seven years ago, and now hearing the actual and whole truth from Bucky…well, Sarah was worried and scared…and _very_ afraid for her son…and part of her was angry at Natasha, but part of her was worried and scared…and _very_ afraid for her too.  Complicated didn’t even being to describe it.

Sarah and Steve talked and cried and hugged for about a half an hour before she left for the night.  Sarah had brought a ton of food that they stocked the fridge with as Clint smirked.  The whole site was always so foreign to him, the times he’d been around Sarah and her boys and Natasha.  Now…it wasn’t so foreign.  It was something that reminded him of a happier time.  Sarah smiled at him as she left for the night, “For what it’s worth, Clint.  I’m very happy to see you alive too.”

Besides the team and Sarah, Laura and Dr. Strange were the only other visitors.  Laura was in everyday to help clean Natasha, tend to her wounds, and check her vitals, and she was as kind and gentle as she’d been the first night as she helped with surgery.

When Laura stopped by to help clean Natasha’s wounds on the first night after the surgery, Clint was all sorts of nervous.  Steve noticed it all week, but didn’t say anything because Clint was quiet as she came and left.  But he remembered that first day she came on her own, how Clint tried to say something to Laura, “I’m…um.  I’m sorry you heard everything you did two nights ago…in the surgery room about Tasha’s and my past.”

“I’m not.”

Clint lifted his eyes to watch Laura as she finished, both with Natasha and her words, “She’s a fighter.  And so is Steve.  And so are you, Clint.”  Steve couldn’t help but think of how Natasha would have raised her eyebrow at the interaction.  Clint was awkward, brash, and hot-headed at times…Hell, most of the time.  But what he didn’t get…was nervous like a man with a crush.

And that left Dr. Strange.  He’d been in two other times during the week since the surgery, and he’d been just as _strange_ as the initial meeting.  Arrogant and confident, but honestly?  Steve thought if anyone pulled it off, it was him.  The first time he’d come in, five days ago, Stark was in the room at the same time as Dr. Strange commented.

“Well, these accommodations will do, I suppose.”

Tony had arranged the room, moved everything in with the help of Happy and the team, and knew that Strange was taking a shot at him because Tony made the comment about Doctors having a god complex. 

“Well, I’m so glad the surgeon could grace us with his presence…two days after Romanoff’s surgery…I might add.”

“Tony,” Steve’s voice stopped the banter before it took off again.  They stepped into the hallway.  It gave Stark and Rogers a chance to talk privately again, and a chance for Laura, Bruce, and Dr. Strange to be alone with Natasha because Clint was running on the treadmill.

The last time Dr. Strange visited was last night, six evenings into this whole ordeal.  And much to the shock of Steve and Clint, and Wanda, Maria, and Loki, who were visiting while he was here, the Doctor let them know, “It’s time to bring Miss Romanoff back to the land of the living, fully.  Her heart is strong, and she’s recovering nicely from an impeccable surgery, if I do say so myself.  And we’ve held off any infection.  I’d almost say it’s miraculous, but I don’t believe in miracles or magic.  I believe in science.” 

“How long, Doc?”  Clint asked. 

“Hard to say, Barton.  Some medically induced coma patients can take hours.  Some days.  I’ve even read journals about patients taking weeks.  It all depends on when she wants to come back to you.  I will stop in tomorrow again to see how she is progressing.”

Her breathing tube was removed and she was taken off the appropriate medication that would cause her body to slowly wake up.

Last night in the middle of the night, as Steve and Clint held onto her small hands from each of their recliners, they shot straight up as they heard her blood pressure monitor start beeping faster.  And then it was her heart monitor, “Clint, I think she is waking up.”

They both got out of their sleeping chairs and pulled the smaller metal ones over to her bedside.  Minutes passed and nothing else happened.  But then they saw the shifting behind her eyelids, “Steve, what do we do?”

Before he could answer, Natasha’s eyes flung open, and all Steve could think of, was the panicked look he’d seen at the cabin and in the SUV before he’d drugged her.  She immediately tried hitting them with her hands, not recognizing where she was or who she was with.  Her efforts were muted due to the state of her weak body.  What wasn’t quiet was the guttural scream that came from her throat.  Whether it was from physical or mental pain, they couldn’t tell.  But no matter how many times both Clint and Steve tried to tell her they were there with her, she wasn’t hearing them. 

Her screaming died down because her throat gave out, resulting in her soft whimpers only coming out now, “Nat…it’s me, Steve.  Please.  Nat, it’s me.  You’re safe here.  You’re with me and Clint, and at the FBI.”

Natasha immediately went back to trying to scratch herself, all over again.  Arms, stomach, chest, neck.  Steve and Clint held one of her hands at her side as she softly sobbed.  It wasn’t difficult at all to hold her arms and hands still.  But it was _incredibly_ painful to watch her cry until she literally couldn’t anymore.  She’d fallen asleep after 10 minutes. 

She had woken up, in the middle of the night, but she wasn’t with them at all. 

* * *

Steve was definitely not going to get any further rest that night.  So he didn’t even sit in his recliner.  He sat in the uncomfortable metal chair as close to her as he could, holding on and resting his forehead against the back of her hand. 

As he held onto the journal in his lap, silently thrumming through the two inches of bound paper, he thought of what it represented.  Two inches of paper.  Sketch paper.  A leather book that he’d given to her so long ago.  His heart overflowed with emotions, as he thought about all of her hundreds and hundreds of journal entries. 

Some of them were incredibly short.  Some of them painfully long.  Some didn’t make sense.  Some pierced his heart, two words in.  Sometimes she went months without writing, and other times she wrote multiple times in a day, when she was feeling more lost than usual.

Two inches, representing the passage of time.  Seven years of time.  Seven years of not having each other.  And seven years full of love and pain. 

Time. 

Over the last seven years, time ebbed and flowed for both of them it seemed.  Somedays, Steve and Natasha’s minds were lost in the mission, whether it was for Poseidon or the FBI.  Others, they could only think of each other, longing for the touch of the other’s skin late at night.  It was all there.  Right in his lap.  All of her thoughts, wishes, worries…regrets, anger, fear…and pain and love.  He held all of it in his lap as he held onto her. 

Steve hadn’t written in a journal, but if he had, it would have been _so similar_ to her many words. 

Time was a fickle thing.  It always had been for them.  But right now, after hearing the love of his life cry out in so much pain, causing her to pass out again…all Steve could think…was that time could fuck off.  They’d paid so much of their lives with time away from each other.  Steve didn’t know what consequences lay ahead for either of them, but he was pretty sure that seven years apart was too high of a price that had already been paid.

Each journal entry represented the passage of that time.  More days and weeks forced apart.  More time on their fated paths they’d found each other on. 

More pages.  More time.  Mores smudges on pages, where Natasha’s faded tears permanently rest and Steve’s fresh tears fused with hers from the past.  It was like their hearts broke together, as he read and read and read, well into the late evenings and early mornings of the past week. 

More words written by Natasha, never thinking they would ever reach Steve.  But they did find him…as he waited all week long.  Like a moth to a flame, Steve couldn’t stay away from Natasha’s journal.  It hurt so damn much reading it, but he couldn’t stay away because it was the closest he’d come to communicating with her in two years.  He was reading her words, and she was writing to him. 

A week of reading about her missing Steve, venting about missions and Clint, asking questions she didn’t ever think would be answered about the team and Wanda and Peter, and Bucky and Sarah.    

Natasha’s words were full of her random thoughts and dreams that she’d woken up from, and memories of them together in their apartment.  They were filled with her wishes of Steve having a better life and moving on from her, as hard as it would be for her to stomach.  They were filled with her heart, and somehow the journal had turned into a time capsule, holding both of their thoughts and what ifs.  Holding the tears from two lovers over the passage of time, forced to be apart by their fated paths. 

Their fated paths. 

How in the hell had any of this happened?  A meeting of two young and vibrant people, crashing into each other on a running path, only to crash into each other, physically kissing that same evening in a diner.  And then falling in love so easily, no matter how hard they tried to foolishly only be friends at first.  Their love was one for the ages…intense, intoxicating and all-encompassing. 

And through a twisted and sadistic turn of events, Natasha’s past came calling as she paid the devil his due.  She gave up _everything_ she ever loved, even Clint in a way.  Because she’d given up on her dream for them to be free, wiping the existence of any sort of normal life he’d ever had, by forcing them to go back to Ivan and Oksana. 

All to stay alive.  All to protect everyone important in her life from a very different type of fate.  A permanent fate, dealt out by her handlers, as they threatened to end anyone’s existence if she didn’t comply. 

So yes, Steve and Natasha’s paths intertwined, even while separated by pain and anger and betrayal.  They intertwined, unbeknownst to Steve on a rooftop as they both stared at the night sky during a wedding, they should’ve been at together.  They intertwined in Russia…And at the cabin in a tragically beautiful and cruelly poetic way.  They’d _been_ intertwining through both of their memories and dreams every night ever since she left, and now?  Now they were intertwined, through Natasha’s words in her journal.  Her journal that Steve had given to her.  Her journal that was a vessel, holding both of their tears. 

They were forced to be apart, but somehow…always…

Somehow, their fated paths _always_ found a way back to one another. 

Natasha’s writing shifted from sounding determined, convinced she’d done the right thing in the beginning.  To sad and lonely, sounding just as lost as Steve felt over the years without her in his arms at night.  To visceral and angry, pissed off at _every fucking thing_ , forcing them to apart. 

That is what Steve was left thinking about as he stared at the journal and at Natasha. 

He couldn’t help but think of her very last entry he’d read from 21 months ago, right before her and Clint ran off to Kazakhstan.  Natasha had told Steve through her words, as he imagined her speaking to him…she completely contradicted all of her wishes for him to move on from her…She told him, that she’d find a way back to him.  They always did.  She’d _pleaded_ with him to wait for her, silently begging him to forgive her for saying goodbye to him. 

Hoping that their fated paths would intertwine once more.   

So what the _hell_ happened between the time of her last journal entry and when she had disappeared, like Clint had told him, after they returned from Kazakhstan?  What would cause her, if they had a plan to escape, to leave it carelessly for Oksana to find? 

It had been gnawing and eating away at Steve all week long.  He was curious as hell, but sick with dread at the thought of finding out. 

* * *

Bruce had come in extra early this morning with Dr. Strange.  They could avoid most of the FBI agents since it was 4 am, and they knew there was a good chance Natasha would be waking up soon. 

Bruce took in the site of the two men, who were both sitting, holding Natasha’s hands, with a look of panic on their faces.  Clint stood up and stretched, walked over to get some coffee, and said, “Doc, she woke up a couple of hours ago…it wasn’t good.”

Bruce and Strange walked over as Steve continued, “She was in pain, and cried and screamed until her voice gave out.  She didn’t recognize either of us…and she kept trying to scratch herself again.”

Banner sighed as Dr. Strange set down his coffee and stood at the edge of the bed, “Rogers, nothing that you said shocks me anymore than what I know already.  You have to understand, none of us know what happened to her.”  Bruce interrupted, “Steve, you’ve seen trauma from war.  Not everyone of your fellow soldiers made it home soundly.  Trauma from anything can cause people to react in disturbing ways.  Even if she woke up now and recognized you, it doesn’t mean that what happened a couple of hours ago, won’t happen again.”

Banner continued, “Guys, the important thing to remember, is that most of her abrasions and cuts are healing nicely.  A lot of her bruising has faded and should be gone within the next week.  Her lungs, ribs, and general strength are a different story, and she’ll have a long way to go with each one.  But, she’s on the right track.  Her vitals from her main organs all appear to be strong.  And she’s gained five pounds in the last week, just from the IV of liquid and nutrients.”

Steve wanted to focus on the positive, he just…there was something about the way she kept trying to hurt herself almost involuntarily by scratching.  Clint asked the question for him, “Why does she keep trying to claw her skin off?”

Strange exchanged a glance with Bruce, “No one except for Natasha is going to be able to tell us for sure.  It could be something as simple as it became a soothing coping skill she could control while captured.  Or, the people that had her could’ve had her on drugs, and the scratching was a side effect.  Or even something as simple as she was kept in an incredibly dry place, and she had itchy skin.”

Steve knew there was _no way_ it could be something as simple as that, “Or what else?”

Banner sighed and took over, “Steve, you’re doing no one any favors by diving down that hole.  I know you are expecting the worst possibility, but we don’t even know what those possibilities are right now.”

“I know Bruce…But I also know that it’s not itchy skin causing her to do this.  Be straight with Clint and me.”

Another glance and another sigh from both doctors before Bruce answered, “Or, it could be something much deeper.  People who’ve been captured and tortured like Natasha, often experience deep rooted trauma.  I don’t want to speculate because we _truly_ don’t know.  If it is something more complicated, she could be doing it involuntarily because of something that happened to her or something she remembers.  She could be trying to prevent something painful that happened to her, or she could be trying to cause herself pain too.” 

Clint said, “I have a feeling it’s something more complicated,” before Steve added, “Yeah, much more complicated.”

Banner or Strange didn’t respond.  It was early and they weren’t going down a road of speculation, so they quietly finished checking Natasha’s vitals.  Right when Bruce was changing her IV bag, she started to stir. 

“Well that’s good timing on our part, Banner,” Strange said.

Steve and Clint rigidly sat up in their chairs when they saw her feet twitch and her face move a little.

Banner and Strange had also gone over the importance of not overwhelming her, but he knew the men couldn’t help their responses.  Bruce walked over to Clint and put his hand on his shoulder, “Why don’t you and Steve let me and Dr. Strange do the talking right away?  And hold off on holding her hand right now.  She’s going to need to feel in control.” 

Clint got the ‘not so subtle’ hint and went over to stand by Steve. 

Banner and Strange stood where Clint was just sitting.  It would be that much less stressful for her to see the doctors first. 

Natasha’s head started to move, and her eyes fluttered as Strange spoke, “Natasha, this is Dr. Stephen Strange and Bruce Banner.  I want you to know that you’re safe.  You’re in a medical room within the New York Office of the FBI.”

Natasha’s head turned towards his voice.  Steve wanted to grab her hand, but remembered and stopped, feeling helpless as his heart raced. 

“Natasha, I promise you are free from where you’ve been held, and you are safe at the FBI,” Strange continued.  She opened her eyes and blinked several times.  The light was dimmed in the room, so it wasn’t too bright for her eyes to adjust to.  She stared at Bruce for several seconds, looking confused.  And then looked up at the tall doctor as he repeated his words again to her.

Natasha looked down at the IV in her arm, the monitor on her fingertip, and at a couple of remaining bandages on her body.  A hiss came out of her, when she tried to take a large breath.  Her ribs and lungs were obviously causing her pain.  Bruce smiled kindly at her, and explained in detail where everything was on her and what her injuries were.  The cuts, abrasions, dislocated shoulder, broken ribs, and collapsed lung. 

She didn’t confirm that she understood in anyway, but she wasn’t flinching away from him either, which was a good sign.  

Banner then told her about being in a medically induced coma for the last week.  He talked about her surgery on her lung and her other serious injuries needing time to repair themselves.  Steve watched her right hand grip the sheet when he mentioned a week passing. 

She started looking around the room then.  Her eyes went past Bruce and Strange to the recliner and cabinet behind him, then over to the window along the same wall with a couch underneath it.  The couch had blankets and pillows messily stacked on it. 

She stared at her feet for several seconds.  Her face became determined, and she pursed her lips and squinted at them.  She began to wiggle her toes, registering that she had control over her movements, however slight they were.  She looked past her feet now to the wall in front of her.  Several hard chairs sat around a small table covered in newspapers and magazines.  To the right of the table, she saw a minifridge, a coffee machine, and sacks of food on a small counter.  Then she saw the door. 

The four men watched her look at the door, and her monitor for her pulse and blood pressure started beeping faster.  Clint put his hand on Steve’s shoulder, gripping it hard.  Banner held his hand up to them, telling them to stay put for a moment.  Both of them wanted to rush right to her.  But, she wasn’t fighting against the images…she was fighting through them, so they waited. 

Bruce said, “Natasha, that door is to keep you safe.  The area is secure and no one can get in here without us having advanced warning.”  Banner pointed out the video cameras that were set up.  Her breathing started to become normal, and the monitor’s beeping slowed down again.

Strange asked, “Natasha, can you hear me okay?  You don’t have to speak, but if you can understand me, just nod your head a little.”  Natasha stared at the door and the cameras for several seconds and barely moved her head.  She could hear okay. 

Clint took a deep breath from relief when she nodded, and it alerted her.  Her body became stiff in the bed.  She shut her eyes and winced in pain from her muscles tightening.  Banner spoke again, “Natasha, you don’t have to be scared, everyone that’s in this room loves you and cares for you very much.  I promise you, the other people in here are very real, and it isn’t your mind playing tricks on you.”

Natasha opened her eyes, moving her head to the right, where she’d heard the breathing.  Clint stood a few feet from the bed, and Steve sat in a chair next to him.  Clint had his left hand on Steve’s shoulder, and Steve’s hands were clenched in his lap while both men had tears in their eyes, watching her every move.

“Natasha…Clint and Steve found you and saved you a week ago.  They’ve been by your side ever since.  I promise you, everything you’re seeing is very real.” 

Natasha stared at them, processing the scene in front of her. 

She had dreamed so many variations of the image before her while she’d been gone.  Every time though…the men she loved in her life were yanked away by her nightmares.  This time it was different, though.  Banner or this tall stranger next to him had never been in her dreams.  Somehow she knew this time was real. 

Everything came rushing to her.  Lips trembling, hands shaking, eyes watering.  A shaky breath accompanied her actions as her face froze on the two men to her right.  Tears began to fall as she kept staring at Steve and Clint.  She wouldn’t look away.  Natasha _knew_ they were real.  _Somehow_ , this time it was real, and she was afraid if she looked away, they’d be gone when she turned back. 

Without Dr. Strange or Bruce telling them it was okay, Steve and Clint hurried over to her.  They couldn’t stay away any longer. 

The Doctors knew it was inevitable, so they moved toward the counter on the other side of the room to go over her charts while still being near if needed.  But they wanted to give Steve and Clint and Natasha some space. 

Clint grabbed a chair, so Steve and he could be close to Natasha.  Clint gently placed his hand on her knee, and Steve tentatively held her hand.  The men’s hearts were racing, and they were both trying to hold it together to not scare her.  She looked down at their hands, made the connection to the feeling, and looked back up to them, holding their stare for a couple of seconds.

That smallest passage of time did it.  Her trembles turned into shuddering.  And she began sobbing.   

It wasn’t just tears or nerves or questioning if what she was seeing was real.  Her shaking sobs were only interrupted by sharp gasps of breath drawn in, causing a searing pain to course through her lungs and ribs. 

Steve knew as he rubbed her hand.  Clint knew as he squeezed her knee.  They knew that she wasn’t in the trenches of a nightmare.  They _knew_ she was seeing them, and registering that it was real.  She was _finally_ with them.     

Through his own tears, Steve whispered, “Natasha, I’m so happy to see your beautiful face.” 

Clint added in his own shaky voice, “I’ve never been so happy to hear someone cry, Tasha.” 

They sat there, connected in a tormented triangle of emotion, holding onto one another, never wanting to let go.  Crying and quivering.  Shaking and sobbing intermittently.  Wiping tears from their own faces as Steve reached to brush his thumb across Natasha’s cheek.  She shut her eyes and leaned into his palm, trying to take a deep breath.  And they collapsed all over again, feeling the pain and relief, the sadness and love, all rolled into the small space between them. 

Steve and Clint both were so relieved Natasha finally recognized them.  They didn’t want to push her, just like Banner and Strange had told them, so they just cried and rubbed and held and brushed where they could.  Another five minutes had passed and her crying had settled down as she was able to take a couple of painful breaths.  Painful but good.  Her lungs were working. 

Natasha couldn’t move much, but she did what she could in the moment.  She moved her knee a little closer to Clint, and she turned her hand over, so Steve could feel her palm.   

All she wanted was to feel closer to them. 

“How long?”   

Steve and Clint froze.  They were surprised to hear her hoarse words.  They’d had this conversation with Strange and Banner the previous day, when they were taking her off the drugs to bring her back.  But right now, in the moment they didn’t know what to do. 

Clint and Steve looked back at the Doctors as they gave them a nod.  Yes, it was important to go slow with her, but she asked.  Natasha was incredibly perceptive, even now.  She knew it had been a long time.  She could innately tell.  So, if she didn’t get an answer, it might upset her.  And the sooner she knew, the sooner she could begin to process the information.

Steve’s eyes turned down at her and his forehead wrinkled.  She was only looking at him now, recognizing the worry on his face, “Natasha, before I say anything, I want you to know Clint has searched every day for you.” 

Natasha became stiff again.  She winced in pain, but she didn’t care.  Her knee became tight and she squeezed Steve’s hand as hard as she could.  It wasn’t hard in comparison to anyone else.  But, Steve could tell she was communicating through her movement.  And she was demanding to know the answer to what she’d just asked as she bit her lower lip, “How long was I gone?”

Strange and Banner couldn’t help but smirk at the site.  Natasha was still stubborn and prickly as ever, even now. 

Steve let out a breath, rubbing her hand between his thumbs, “21 months, Nat.  You’ve been gone for 21 months.” 

Clint squeezed her knee again, “Tasha, Ivan and Oksana took you away after the mission in Kazakhstan, remember?  Three months after you and Steve were at the cabin…which was two years ago.”

Natasha winced.  And then she saw the journal by Steve.  He wasn’t holding it right now, but she saw it.  With the journal, and hearing Clint, and seeing Steve’s blue eyes looking at her, _everything_ began to fall into place. 

Natasha drew her knee back from Clint and pulled her hand away from Steve.  She shut her eyes tight and tried to exhale slowly.  It was painful for her to move as quickly as she did, but that feeling was nothing compared to the sudden throbbing in her head.  She was processing what she’d just heard.  And everything they had tried to prevent, was unstoppable.  She became overwhelmed as the truth of what had happened crashed into her, like a force of nature.

Natasha’s life flashed before her. 

She was a child with her birth parents as they sold her into a form of slavery.  Clint and her were in the orphanage, training to be little USSR spies.  Then she was in America under Oksana and Ivan’s rule, passing test after test after goddamn test. 

Images of stubborn defiance and idealistic dreams popped into her head as her years in the Navy flew by her.  How naïve she truly was, thinking Clint and her could escape.  Her dreams had foreshadowed her naivety, when she used to dream of the child in front of the broken mirror with everyone telling her, “ _Yelena, you stupid child.  Don’t you know, you’ll never be free?”_

And then Steve.  His beautiful face.  His gorgeous body.  His eyes that were like the sea.  From seeing him for the first time on the running trail, to meeting him honestly at Quantico, to their first time making love at the lake, to graduation and beyond.  To living with him in their apartment, to him giving her that hallowed journal that had saved her from madness so many nights that she was apart from him.  And then there was Russia, and the cabin, and the fallout from their fated paths.  The consequences of the passage of time. 

The team.  Loki.  Sarah.  Bucky.  Wanda.  All of her friends.  All of it flashed before her and she suddenly stopped, hearing her brother’s words again, “ _That was two years ago.”_ Natasha remembered saying goodbye to Steve, and not long after, saying goodbye to Clint. 

Then, she remembered coming back from Kazakhstan and being taken.   

And suddenly the passage of time wasn’t so easily defined.  Everything before she was taken had a clear beginning, middle, and end.  But time vanished for her for 21 months.  And it became a twisted and never-ending black hole.    

A bog.  A muddled mess.  A hellish existence that never ended or began…it just continued. 

Ivan’s glare.  Oksana’s voice.  Their henchmen’s fists.  The feel of the electric shock she’d received.  The immense hunger and thirst she felt.  The dark room she was kept in at times and the smell of dampness and dirt that accompanied where she slept.  There was no journal to lose herself in.  There was no reprieve at night from her missions, to lose herself in her memory of Steve. 

And there was no light at the end of the tunnel, because she remembered what caused her to tumble over the edge to begin with.  What had caused her to be so careless to leave her journal that evidenced her plan, and the love and history of the man sitting next to her.  What had caused her to tell her brother goodbye. 

Natasha tried to lift her arm to wipe away the tears, but she couldn’t.  Her body was too weak.  And her fear vanished, turning to frustration from feeling fragile.  And then she was angry as her fingers and feet dug into the bed as hard as they could.  It was hard telling how long her reaction actually lasted, but the sound of Steve and Clint’s voices brought her out of her trance. 

“Nat, you are so beautiful and brave.  I can’t even begin to tell you how strong you are.”  Steve leaned forward, brushing her hair behind her ear. 

“You know the first thing the nurse and the doctor’s told me after your surgery, Tasha?  That you’re a fighter.  And you are.  You’ve always been one, and you are now.”  Clint’s voice was shaking.  Opening her eyes, Natasha looked over at them again and let herself breathe. 

 _‘Just breathe.’_  

It was a mantra of sorts, that Steve and her had told each other when waking from a bad dream.  She had woken from one…only it was reality.  But the refrain was still true.  _Just breathe._

She did.  And Natasha had something she _had_ to say.  It had been inside of her for 21 months.  And she was staring at the man she needed to tell.  She slid her hand over a little on the bed towards Steve, and she looked at Clint.  Steve heard the movement against the sheet and instantly grabbed her hand in his again.  He bent over, making sure he limited her movements, and kissed the back of it.  She made the same move with her left hand, and Clint knew that she needed him too, as he moved over to the other side of the bed to hold her other hand. 

She couldn’t hold it in any longer as the words came out through her scratchy voice, “I’m sorry.”

Two words from her that made Steve and Clint instantly fill with fear.  What was she sorry for?

“Nat, you have _nothing_ to be sorry for.”  Steve kissed her hand frantically, trying not to hold on too tight. 

“Natasha, you listen to me.  There is nothing to apologize for.  You’re here now.  I promise Ivan and Oksana will pay.”  Clint looked over at Steve as they said together, “Whatever it takes.”

At those words, Natasha closed her eyes and breathed through a trembling voice, “I’m sorry, Steve…Tattoos.”

Steve’s sickened feeling from earlier was back. 

Natasha wasn’t giving a vague apology for some notion about putting him in danger.  She was apologizing for _something_ specific, and he felt nauseous all of a sudden.  Just like the cabin when he saw her, he felt overwhelmed at the feeling of darkness now consuming him.  But he asked anyway, “Nat, I don’t understand…Tattoos?  We saw them on your back.  You changed them from when we were together at the cabin.”

Clint didn’t like this.  He knew in his gut, _something_ was coming he couldn’t even begin to comprehend.  He could see it on her face and hear it in her voice.  

Natasha shook her head again as she held their hands tighter, now crying through her words, “No.  The tattoo I covered.  The red symbol.  I’m so sorry, Steve.”  Steve didn’t know why but his eyes glassed over and his throat tightened as the panicked feeling began to grow inside the room.  Dr. Strange and Bruce stepped out into the hallway, knowing that whatever was about to be said, really should not be heard by anyone but them right now. 

Steve didn’t want to ask.  Ever since they discovered the tattoo a week ago, he wondered.  But now, he wanted to run from what she was about to say.  He couldn’t form the words that were hiding in his heart, but the truth was…yes, somehow he _knew_. 

The scratching.  The panic.  Her careless mistake.  Now an apology. 

He knew…before she said it as tears escaped his eyes.  But Steve couldn’t stay away.  Her words would burn and scorch his heart, but he flew into the fire anyway, “Nat, what did you cover?  What did the tattoo say?”

The passage of time.  Whether it was the seven years that she was gone, or seven of the longest seconds that Steve ever felt, as they ticked by in silence right now.  The passage of time had brought them together again on their fated paths, only now revealing a different kind of fate.  A permanent one.  The original tattoo had been the Russian word for Treason.  Natasha replaced it with, ‘Ребенок.’

“Child…It said child.”

She began shaking.  And inside the darkest part of Steve…his intuition was screaming.  The sickening premonition hadn’t formed into coherent thoughts or solid words until five seconds ago when she said it. 

But deep in his heart, Steve _knew_ it was something like this.  It had to be, but he’d pushed away the possibilities of what could’ve _ever_ caused Natasha to be careless, because it had to be something treacherous and horrifying.  And his mind just couldn’t go there…To what could’ve _ever_ caused her to give up.  But Steve knew her, and knew it had to be something unthinkable. 

And this was unthinkable, and his mind was _there_ now. 

Clint was silent, welling up with his own tears.  Natasha didn’t say anymore, and was sobbing in terrible fits.  And Steve was staring at her as the tidal wave washed over him.  He began to shake, letting his forehead fall to her hand. 

There were no words.

She didn’t and couldn’t say anything more as she cried herself to sleep. 

Clint and Steve knew Natasha so well… _So incredibly_ well, that most of the time, non-verbal communication was almost as strong as actual words.  That was why nothing else needed to be said for the tragic pieces to fall into place. 

Clint understood now.  He understood when they returned from Kazakhstan, Natasha had disappeared, when they were supposed to finalize their escape plan.  He thought it was only to get the new tattoos.  But now he understood…she must have found out that same night too.  And before he could talk to her, it was too late.  The next morning, both he and Natasha were drug away.  And she was tortured for three days by Ivan and Oksana.

Steve understood now.  Natasha was pregnant when they took her and Clint.  He understood why she was _so different_ when Clint saw her one last time…after those three days.  The unthinkable had happened.  Steve understood now…how something like leaving her journal out to be found, could’ve even been possible. 

Steve couldn’t begin to understand…what Natasha went through after she was taken for good…after she’d said goodbye to Clint. 

And Natasha knew.  She had to live with knowing it all…the entirety of her 21 months of captivity, while having no reprieve from her guilt and pain.  While having no outlet of Steve’s journal to etch her words and agony and tears into.  While having no way to connect with who she needed most…until now.  She’d told them…She’d told Steve, and she was sorry because her and Steve’s unborn child was gone. 

* * *

The end of the seventh day and night, Steve sat awake…numb.  He was mindlessly thrumming through the two inches of Natasha’s journal.  Through her passages of love and loss.  Through the passage of seven years of time. 

It had been a _long day_ with her being awake for only a little time, and asleep for the rest of it.  The early morning wake-up with him and Clint had taken every ounce of energy out of her.  And Steve was in a fog.  More repressed feelings.  More confusion.  More anger and pain.  He didn’t know what to do except look at her and try to hold on to her hand. 

Clint was asleep on the couch and Natasha’s head was turned ever so slightly towards Steve.  She hadn’t said anything else as the team came in and out today.  She was asleep for most of their visits, and her eyes only opened slightly the few times she was awake. 

No one knew what she’d said yet, but they would eventually. 

So, Steve sat and thrummed and silently suffered.  If you could call it that.  He was trying to process what he was thinking, and he was at a wall.  Behind it was another world of hurt and pain and grieving…that his heart couldn’t handle or find its way through right now. 

Steve’s world was shattered when Natasha first left, and then when she’d said goodbye.  His life stopped when he’d received pictures of her body.  And his world had turned upside down a week ago when he found out she was still alive. 

And now?  Shattered.  Turned upside down.  No.  Those words didn’t do his impending feelings justice.   

He felt lost, vengeful, devastated…distraught, angry, and hurt.  And that was just the beginning, because he hadn’t fully tapped into any _one_ of those individual emotions.  Not yet.  He’d felt nauseous all day, but even sicker at the thought of leaving her side.  So, he stomached through and sat here, falling deeper into himself as he thought about all that had been lost. 

The passage of time.  Seven years of time.  And now, their unborn child. 

Natasha had been grieving on her own for 21 months.  Just as Steve had been grieving the loss of her for 18 of those same months.  God, how _different_ and _parallel_ of lives they’ve lived, feeling so much pain and heartache from their fated paths.  This was the other shoe.  This was what Bucky and everyone was waiting for…to push Steve over the edge.  But he was numb and in the thickest of fogs right now…Thrumming through her words and their tears within the pages…and coursing through the jagged emotions, threatening to pierce his already broken heart. 

He was numb right now, but Steve knew he couldn’t protect himself from the crash that was coming.  Maybe the _only_ thing stopping that pending crash from occurring right now, was what happened next. 

Steve stopped his mindless motion of thrumming through the journal.  The leather binding on the back felt odd.  He slipped his hand away from Natasha’s for a moment as he opened the journal up.  The corner of the page started to peel away from the leather.  And Steve realized it shouldn’t be glued to the leather to begin with.  Steve picked and plucked, pulling the paper carefully away.  Glue that had dried over seven years, had crusted into a yellow glaze.  The page fell away once the corner was free. 

What fell out, was a torn page from the book, with her first _true_ journal entry and a picture. 

The journal entry was from right after Steve gave it to Natasha.  Right after the botched warehouse mission.  And the picture?  It was a copy of the two of them, on the evening cruise on the lake, from their first weekend away at Quantico.  The first weekend they said they loved each other.  The first time they’d said they were each other’s forever…And the first time they’d made love.  Natasha had torn the page from the beginning of the book and hid it within the leather walls with the picture, protecting it and keeping it safe.  She had taken two things from their apartment to keep. 

She’d taken two things, tethering her…and reminding her always of her connection to Steve.

* * *

_**Journal Entry** – 7 ½ Years Ago_

_I don’t know what I’m doing even writing in this thing, Steve._

_You’re such a romantic fool for giving it to me.  But I love you all the more for it.  Is this what I’m supposed to do?  Write my hopes and dreams and love for you down, permanently showing evidence of how much of my life you consume?_

_Whoa, where did that come from?  Is this what happens to you when you draw?  You just put your pencil down and your fingers and eyes do the work?  I seriously don’t know where those words came from…but I must say, they’re true.  On paper, and in my heart._

_What the heck?  Did you know, that giving this to me, would tap into a sappier and romantic side of myself?  If so, I guess that’s one more part of me that I’ve discovered since meeting you.  You always seem to know me, even better than I know myself sometimes.  I feel the same about you._

_Like earlier, with the warehouse mission.  I know you were scared to death that something was going to happen to me.  I’ll let you in on a little secret.  I was scared too.  But you were there, doing your whole…protective brooding FBI guy leader sort of thing.  And I was an idiot.  But we got out of it.  We **always** do.  I promise I’ll be more careful.  It really was an honest mistake…my stupid comms went out, okay?  _

_Okay, I’ll dial back the stubbornness…but just between me and you here…on this page.  I guess I’ll let you in on another little secret as well, Steve.  I think I kind of like this musky leather book._

_It smells like you.  It’s from you.  And I have a hunch that the pages will be filled with words about you.  So thank you, for thinking of me when I wasn’t even thinking of myself.  Thanks for saving my stupid ass today.  And thank you for giving me a place to talk to you, when you aren’t around…or maybe when I’m being too stubborn or proud to talk.  Nothing is going to get in the way of our future, Steve.  Not some criminal in a warehouse.  Not Ivan or Oksana.  Not any amount of distance or time.  We’ve come too far together.  Remember the lake?_

_You’re my forever._

_Whoops, I better put this thing away because I hear the door opening.  You said you were going to get some wine while I showered after the mission.  And if your relentless kisses, after you knew I was okay in the warehouse, gave me a preview of what’s to come tonight…I think I’m in for a wonderful evening.  I’ll let you in on one more secret.  I think you’re in for a wonderful evening too._ _All my love to you, my Soldier – Nat._

* * *

 

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise you, if you’re crying, I’m crying right with you. This was a really tough one. 
> 
> I do hope you liked the journal entries. They were an idea that I’d had floating around in my head for a long time, and it felt like the perfect time to bring them to light. 4 times Nat wrote to Steve when they were apart + 1 time when they were together. 
> 
> Kisses and Cheers to the readers. Your support and words always…always mean so much to me and I thank you so, so much! The encouragement really does help keep my motivation high. I hope you enjoyed the image board for the chapter. 
> 
> Please let me know your thoughts as we put another notch in the belt of this story. 
> 
> Come follow me on Tumblr @eightieskat to chat about the story, Marvel, or anything! And have a lovely rest of the week.
> 
> Cheers!~~ Kat


	21. Running Through Stages...Running Through Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note at the end. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy the chapter and Image Board below.

Memories & Reality

I do not own any of this or any part of Marvel or the MCU

Chapter 21 – Running Through Stages…Running Through Time.

* * *

**_4 Years Ago –_ ** _Russia_

_Steve Rogers walked along the balcony towards the marble staircase.  Towards Natasha Romanoff._

_The one that got away.  The one…that ran away after betraying him.  The one he’d been searching for, learned Russian for, and was currently lying to all of his loved ones for.  Natasha may have been the one that got away, but their connection was still just as strong somehow._

_Because Ivan and Oksana had stormed off from whatever intense discussion they’d been having with Clint and Natasha, which left them alone in the enclosure in St. Vladimir’s Hall in the Royal Kremlin Palace._

_The redhead…who wore Navy Blue, had a pair of eyes on her that belonged to the man she ran from.  A pair of eyes that travelled down her backside, over the fabric that hugged the side of her hips and covered the dimples at the base of her spine that he remembered so well.  Steve could almost feel her skin as his fingers tingled, thinking of it.  He swallowed, clearing his head as Natasha paused while talking with Clint.  She turned, craning her neck away from her brother for a moment as she looked out into the Royal Hall.  The outline of her mask was distinct as he saw her red lips again._

_Damn._

_Steve should have known.  Natasha could feel his presence just as he’d felt hers before he found her.  They **always** could.  Neither distance nor time could weaken their connection.  And right now, that magnetic pull between them was going to give up his cover before he even had a chance to make a move.  _

_Steve was right back to where he started, at the top of the stairs.  And so was the woman he’d made small talk with 30 minutes ago.  So, just as Natasha turned around fully to scan the crowd, Steve began talking with the woman again.  He said something about the palace, but he couldn’t really tell.  His mind was elsewhere.  Honestly, the woman looked annoyed with Steve, but answered his bland questions anyway, which was all that mattered.  Because Steve used her body as a shield as he kept watch on Natasha._

_Steve could sense that something inside Natasha had caused her instinct to flare as she scanned the room.  A minute later, Steve smiled politely at the irritated woman as he handed her his empty glass and made his way down the stairs.  Natasha had apparently told her internal voice to shut up because she and Clint were on the move._

_Not taking his eyes off of her the entire time, Steve made his way down the marble staircase again._

_He descended all the way down to the base of the steps and quickly moved behind a marble pillar as he grabbed another drink off of a tray.  Steve was about 30 feet from her, and his heart was pounding.  30 feet to the person who he began this long and twistedly, pained journey with._

_His fingers itched, and his mouth watered.  But Steve had to be patient…so he kept a safe distance and watched._

_Ivan and Oksana parted through the crowd and exited the room, flowing right on into the next hall.  Steve kept his distance, but followed as Clint and Natasha trailed behind them into St. Alexander’s Hall._

_St. Alexander’s Hall was just as intricate as the one Steve had just left.  A large room with a beautiful dome looming overhead.  Right above one of the doorways was a two-headed eagle.  The Russian emblem for power.  The old USSR symbol that Steve remembered as Natasha taught him about Russia when they were together.  A symbol that he would find on Natasha’s back years in the future.  A symbol keeping watch over the room.  It was like the eagles were staring right at Steve, warning him again of the foreign territory he was in._

_More enclaves, numerous historic paintings of Russian and Soviet leaders, and gold trim everywhere, accented the space surrounding them.  The room seemed to be where many guests were eating.  A couple of Russian politicians made their way into the hall as everyone paused and stood to applaud them.  Whether it was out of genuine enthusiasm or the feeling of obligation, was anyone’s guess._

_The politicians made their way to the front of the dining hall.  From what Steve could translate, the politicians were talking about the evening, the Palace, and…were introducing Ivan and Oksana - who were somewhat well known in the Hall, because they received their own applause._

_Steve’s translation of the politicians’ words, depicted Ivana and Oksana as some form of Russian benefactors, but Steve knew they were much more than that.  He was betting the majority of the power players in the room knew that as well.  It was just their cover._

_Donations?  More like code for procuring and funneling funds to an old Soviet training program to secure Russia’s dominance as a global power.  There were other handlers there from other countries, equal to Ivan and Oksana, who were introduced along with them.  A chill ran down Steve’s spine as the words ‘work’ and ‘donations’ lingered in his mind as he thought of the underlying meaning of them.  And then he thought of how many other Ivan and Oksana’s were in the room, right along with them, and realized how global their reach was becoming (or already was.)_

_Steve’s mind started racing with a flood of questions just then, ‘How many people in this room knew about the program Natasha and Clint were born into?  Who else in here was like Natasha and Clint?  And could this be a trap?’_

_A lot.  A decent amount.  And yes!_

_If it wasn’t a trap, it was a hornet’s nest that Steve found himself in the middle of.  He stopped paying attention to the ‘handlers’ at the front of the dining hall as he saw Clint and Natasha leave the room, and walk right into St. George’s Hall._

_Truly an Imperial sized room, St. George’s Hall was long and massive in size and appearance.  Covered in marble flooring, it had overarching ceilings and a row of candelabra styled chandeliers, hanging and lighting the way.  A symphony of instruments was at the farthest point of the room, and filled the air with the sounds of strings and brass.  Masked guests filled the floor, dancing through the beats of music._

_Clint had made his way to one side of the dance floor as Natasha worked her way through the middle of the crowd._

_Steve walked along the opposite side of the room, trailing her movements as he kept watch on her.  Her exposed neck.  Her French twist.  The tight Navy fabric, accenting her waist as it flowed down to the floor.  The hint of her leg from the slit in her dress, as she gracefully navigated through the dancing guests.  Steve watched her every move._

_Natasha made her way to the side of the hall…on the same side that Steve was on.  He was 15 feet away from her now.  Steve looked back.  Clint was still at the back and Ivan and Oksana were still in the dining hall.  Now was his chance.  Steve stared at her neck, and exposed sternum…and at the hint of her cleavage as the front of Natasha came into view as she turned toward him._

_His pulse quickened as he yelled at himself, ‘That is not what this is about, Rogers.’_

_Steve took a breath, put his drink down and made his move.  A slow step at first, and then a more substantial one, followed by four larger steps, as Steve drew closer and closer.  Natasha…could feel him again, because her head looked up in his direction.  Her eyes connected with his instantly as he came within inches of her face._

_It didn’t matter that Steve was in a tux.  It didn’t matter that Natasha was in a gown.  It didn’t matter that he had a beard or either one of them had masks.  She saw him, and he saw her.  And she was shocked.  Speechless.  Astonished…And in awe of what she was seeing.  Steve Rogers was right in front of her._

_Before Natasha’s words could catch up with her widening eyes and parting red lips, Steve grabbed her elbow firmly and pulled her onto the dancefloor._

_Natasha didn’t make a sound, but she didn’t need to.  Her eyes and lips, and tense muscles did all the talking as his left hand grazed her lower back.  Goosebumps followed on her arms as her eyes glassed over, shining through the mask._

_Steve encircled Natasha’s waist as he pulled her against him, and he fought with every urge to ignore how good it felt.  He was here because she’d betrayed him and ran.  He pulled her against him a little harder as he silently told her, she wasn’t going anywhere right now._

_For the first time, in three incredibly long and aching years, Natasha and Steve were in each other’s arms.  And not a word had been said yet._

_Steve grabbed her free hand as hers moved to his shoulder, and they began to naturally move with the rhythm of the music.  The fact that Steve was not the nervous fool on the dancefloor anymore like he was when they first fell in love and danced under the stars at the lake…so long ago…was all credited to the woman he held right now.  Steve could follow a beat fairly smoothly now, thanks to Natasha’s prodding and persistency at dance lessons they took on a whim…as a couple in love planning their life together._

_Natasha was absolutely stunned as she stared silently at the blue-eyed, masked man from her past.  Her heart was thumping as loudly as Steve’s.  They could both feel it.  But her head was screaming at her too._

_Steve had played over and over in his head, what his first words would be to her when he found her.  She was just as beautiful.  She was just as breath-taking.  Natasha’s body felt just as warm and alluring as always.  It all felt…like home._

_But his brain was yelling at him again.  The difference between now versus then, was what was on the inside.  Three years of anger and betrayal and feeling like he’d fallen in love with someone who blindsided him.  Someone who disappeared…because she did.  His emotions took over, “_ _Ты выглядишь красивым, как предатель.”_

_Natasha flinched._

_She inhaled a sharp intake of breath as she heard him.  For once, she was rendered just as speechless as Steve had been.  She was floored with shock and surprise and bewilderment as her mind flooded with questions about why Steve was really here, holding her.  Why he found her…About Steve growing a beard, and looking just as gorgeous as he always had.  And then she focused on his words.  He’d said, ‘You look beautiful, like a traitor.’_

_More questions inundated her brain, ‘Did Steve just called me a traitor?  What did you expect…you **did** betray him and your team…Wait…Is Steve speaking Russian to me?  Steve learned Russian?’ _

_Natasha stared at him for seconds that felt like minutes as they moved their feet seamlessly with the other guests.  They followed the flow of the music, but they were lost in their own trance.  Natasha narrowed her eyes at Steve before closing them briefly to collect herself before she finally responded, “_ _Вы не можете быть здесь прямо сейчас. Это не безопасно.”_

_The anger that was roiling inside of Steve began to grow.  He hadn’t greeted her properly and neither had she.  She had told him, ‘You cannot be here right now. It's not safe.’_

_Natasha could see the recognizable emotion in his eyes as she tightened her grip on his shoulder and hand.  But he cut her off before she said anything else, “_ _Ты больше не отдаешь мне приказы, Наташа. Давайте потанцуем._ _”_

_The push and pull was there, stronger than ever as their feet turned as they spun around, and then slowed as the tempo shifted.  Natasha’s lips parted again as she listened to him, ‘You no longer give me orders, Natasha.  Let’s dance.’_

_Steve pulled her closer to his body, so they were almost touching…everywhere…as his fingers pressed into the small of her back.  A small breath escaped her throat at the sensation.  Steve could feel the rise and fall of her chest and could see each and every time she swallowed as her muscles shifted along her throat._

_The initial dancing had been more of a waltz, but now that the music had slowed, Steve saw Natasha shake her head.  Just once.  It was so slight that most would miss it.  She was on edge…on her heels…And she was caught off guard.  By his words.  And by the implication of his presence here._

_Yes, she shook her head, digging her fingers into his shoulder as she tried to push away the electricity that was flickering between them.  Just like at Quantico when they’d ‘attempted’ to be friends, it was useless.  This pull.  This…magnetism between them hadn’t changed, and any attempt right now to push it away or avoid it, was just as futile as it was at Quantico._

_Steve had found her somehow tonight, and they were in this bubble of anger and questions, and familiar magnetic pull.  And it was too late for either one of them to run right now._

_Steve was blending in, and she had to go along with it at the moment to protect him.  Natasha had dreamt of various forms of this moment, almost every night since she’d ran from him and the FBI three years ago.  She had documented her desires and dreams and wishes in her journal.  She had hoped she would see him again someday, but not here.  Not in Russia.  Not like this.  Not with Steve putting his stupid stubborn ass in danger.  She grounded herself in that protective anger as well, fighting the ache in her body for him._

_What the hell was he doing here._

_They were so close now, that she dropped the charade within this masquerade and whispered to him in English, “Steve, I **cannot** believe you’re here.  What are you doing?”  _

_Steve had prepared himself in all the ways he could.  The planning, the mapping, the plotting.  The learning of language.  The studying at night.  But…what he couldn’t prepare for…no matter how hard he tried, was how his body fell into the old pattern while she was near.  The sensation of Natasha overwhelmed him for a moment, and he felt…powerless._

_How could he not?_

_It had been three years.  Three achingly painful, hard, and endlessly long years.  No matter how angry Steve was, he couldn’t fight the fact that…she felt just as perfect in his arms.  She smelled just as intoxicating with the hint of vanilla and cinnamon around her.  She sounded just as sultry with her whisper.  And she looked…well, the sight of her beautiful green eyes alone…did him in._

_It was the diner for late night coffee.  It was Quantico.  It was their life afterwards…there goddamn perfect and beautiful life.  It was all of it as Steve fell into the past for a few seconds, staring at her luscious red lips.  Steve stared, imagining the only remaining sense left…of what it would be like to taste her again._

_If only it could be that simple._

_Seconds passed, and Steve remembered why he was here as he had stared at her eyes behind her mask.  How fitting it was they were at a masquerade, because it was a manifestation of how Steve felt…that Natasha had always had a mask on for him._

_The spell, making Steve feel powerless, had broken.  And he finally responded in his low and demanding tone, that almost made Natasha weak in the knees, “You don’t know how long…You don’t know how many hours and days I have spent tracking you down, Natasha.  But tonight…this ends.  I’m going to get my answers from you, and you are coming back to the states with me.”_

_Natasha flinched again.  She looked at him with an almost hopeful expression, “You came here to bring me back?”  Steve scoffed immediately under his breath, “No Natasha…There’s no going back.  I’m bringing you to the states to finally arrest you for betraying the FBI…There’s no going back.”_

_It was like she had been doused with ice water._

_Natasha froze._

_And Steve saw it.  The pain and hurt as it traveled across her eyes as she soaked in his words.  Steve had travelled around the world to…arrest her?  The incredibly pained and hurt part of Steve…that was so angry with her, was yelling inside his head, ‘Good!  She deserves to feel the pain you’ve felt.’_

_But it was almost laughable at how quickly Steve told that voice inside his head to shut up.  Because his heart wasn’t listening to his head.  It never had…and it never would when it came to Natasha Romanoff._

_The pain in her eyes.  The tightening in her throat._

_From one broken heart to another, Steve recognized the signs immediately.  She had hurt him, in an unfathomable way.  And he had just said hurtful words to her, in an unrecognizable way to her.  And it was all a fallacy.  A front, that started crumbling as they gazed at each other, swaying slowly, and holding on to one another as close as they could.  They soaked in every ounce, and felt all of the anger and pain…and stubbornness inside of themselves.  And inside of each other._

_It was all reflected in their burning stare between each other as they silently said what their voices could not right now.  She shut her eyes and he took a breath before speaking again._

_This time with less venom.  This time with the truth.  “Natasha, it’s not even what you actually did that I can’t wrap my head around.  I mean, I have trouble with that everyday too.  Every damn day.  But what I haven’t even been able to try to comprehend, is the way you left me.  You just ran, without a second thought.  You ran and never looked back.  You have no idea how much that broke me.”_

_Natasha was overwhelmed.  Did it feel better that Steve didn’t have the bite to his words anymore?  Maybe…but the meaning behind what he just said, stung even more.  She leaned into him closer as her hand now rested on his neck.  It was almost an involuntary move as her fingers drew small circles on his bare skin above his collar.  It was a move from long ago, and she couldn’t stop herself from saying, “Oh, yes I do, Steve.  I know exactly how much it broke you.  What you don’t seem to realize is how much it broke me too.”_

* * *

_Here Steve and Natasha were.  Falling into old words and patterns, and starting to dive into that endless abyss of pain._

_But before either one of them could speak again, Steve felt Natasha freeze as her body went rigid._

_“Steve, Ivan and Oksana are coming up the dancefloor right now.  Shit.  They were going to leave after they were done in the dining hall.  You **have** to get off this dancefloor right now.”  Steve was about to argue, but he couldn’t.  She wasn’t lying.  He saw the fear and vulnerability in her eyes, and he caught the sight of Ivan and Oksana about 100 feet away.  _

_And then Steve felt a **strong** grip on his shoulder as Clint’s voice came through in a harsh whisper, “Rogers, under different circumstances, I’d say something like…nice to see you.  But here?  It’s not.  And the size of your balls by coming here tonight, has grossly outweighed your brain cells.”  _

_Steve’s hold on Natasha tightened as she grew more fearful.  He was angry with her of course, and that is what he would tell himself as he replayed this night over and over again in his mind.  But deep down, Steve knew.  He knew the reason he tried to hold on as tight as he could, was because he couldn’t bear the thought of letting her go…not so soon.  Not after he’d just found her._

_Natasha whimpered softly, “Please Steve.”_

_Clint quickly added, “Okay Rogers, you have about five seconds.  It’s time for me to cut in with my sister for a dance…before you end up getting shot right in front of her by our lovely adoptive parents.  Let her go for a couple minutes…Go and stand over there, behind that marble column…and don’t come out from behind it until you hear them leave.”_

_How was Steve already going against something he said he wouldn’t do?_

_But Steve did see Ivan and Oksana as they were pulled into a brief conversation with another couple dancing.  Steve gave the small of Natasha’s back a final squeeze, causing her to shut her eyes as he fought all of his will power and pulled away._

_Quickly grabbing a drink, Steve made it off the dancefloor a minute before Ivan and Oksana were right by Clint and Natasha.  And Steve watched the interaction from his vantage point, now 20 feet away.  He stood behind the marble column next to a couple of guests talking about the music._

_In their regal attire, Ivan and Oksana soaked up the oxygen around them.  The attention of the guests turned to them as they smiled and waved and laughed…Which was about as big of a fallacy as Steve thinking he could find Natasha tonight without being affected by her presence._

_Oksana’s velvet dress and Ivan’s black tux with tails, blended into the royal surroundings as they pretended to politely pull Clint and Natasha away from the dancefloor.  They drew closer to the marble column where Steve hid.  The people talking next to him had vanished in intimidation, leaving him hidden alone, with the four of them mere feet away._

_Steve turned his back to them as they stood in the same tense stance as they had when Steve spotted them earlier.  The crowd re-convened around them, dancing and filling the space they’d left.  And Steve listened, as he translated their words._

_Oksana demanded to know who Natasha was just talking and dancing with.  God they were cold…They were like sharks, and had smelled a drop of blood in the water as Steve’s own blood started to flow faster._

_Natasha didn’t even have a chance to answer as Ivan grabbed her arm, just as harshly as he had earlier, causing her to hiss in discomfort._

_Steve clenched his jaw at the sound and fought every urge to make his presence known.  But he heard Natasha speak in English to Ivan, “If you want me to stay here the rest of the night, to do recon on the list of politicians you gave me, you shouldn’t grab me so hard that you cause me to bruise.  You’re smarter than that, Ivan.”_

_‘That fucking asshole,’ Steve thought to himself as his grip on his glass tightened, and he could feel the tension between the foursome rise._

_Oksana raised her voice slightly, “Natasha, don’t,” but Ivan cut her off in Russian, “_ _Послушай меня, ты неблагодарная сука.”_

_Steve heard every word and could feel a vein start to show in his brow as his jaw actually started to hurt.  Ivan had said, ‘Listen to me, you thankless bitch.’_

_Clint stepped in before anything else could happen, “Ivan, Natasha’s not wrong.  She just didn’t use her words properly, like you taught us…especially around you in public.  She’s going to have to put some make-up on her arm after this.  That’s all she meant.  Oksana, I promise you the guy was just some Russian who’d had too much to drink…enough liquid courage to make a move on Natasha.”_

_Steve heard Oksana lean in, coolly telling them, “Don’t forget Natasha, this is your **last** chance with us.  You’ve done good work since you made the right choice several years ago.  Don’t go throwing it all away, when we’ve so graciously let you back into our Program.  We’re going to leave for the night.  But we expect the intel on the politicians on Monday.  We’ll see you in two days.”_

_Steve could swear if he listened hard enough, he would have literally heard Ivan and Oksana flip a switch inside themselves.  Because their cool and menacing tone faded away as they put their masks of charisma back on.  He watched as they made their way through the crowd and out the entrance, as they were followed by their security detail._

_Steve moved out from behind the pillar and saw Natasha looking down and grabbing her arm as Clint scanned the crowd to see if anyone else was looking at them suspiciously.  Steve was in deep, and in more than just a dangerous situation now.  He felt like a fish out of water in her world as he moved back towards them.  And he hated all of it.  He hated how he felt, and he hated how she looked.  He hated how he didn’t understand any of it, including how her betrayal just didn’t add up in this exact moment._

_Natasha refused to look up at Steve._

_She was fighting back tears, and he knew it wasn’t because of where Ivan had grabbed her.  That was nothing for Natasha’s tolerance level.  No.  Steve knew that she was fighting tears because of the pain inside her that was continuing to grow.  And it ran so much deeper than any bruise or cut or blemish ever could._

_Clint looked at the two of them and sighed.  This situation was fucked up beyond repair, but he couldn’t help but feel for the two of them, and what was going on inside of their heads right now._

_Clint grabbed a shot as a waiter walked by, downing the vodka instantly.  He smacked his lips before breaking the tension, “So, Rogers…how’s the team?  How’s your brother?  I heard he and Maximoff got married.”_

_Natasha lifted her head sharply and glared at Clint.  Steve didn’t know that she’d been on that rooftop, which was only a year ago.  Natasha couldn’t go down this path right now or she’d crumble.  She had to get out of here.  And she had to get Steve out of here safely._

_Steve flinched.  The attempt at small talk from Clint was so jarring, but what was even more surprising…was that Clint knew Bucky and Wanda…got married?  Natasha looked up and finally caught Steve’s eyes again, “We heard it in passing.  Social media and all.”_

_Clint looked at his sister and then at Steve before he grunted and whispered to Natasha, “I’ll do you a solid, Tasha.  I’ll get the intel tonight, so you two can…catch up or whatever.  But no fucking crazy ideas.  Ivan and Oksana are already on high alert tonight.  If they even catch a whiff of Rogers being here, they’ll have him drawn and quartered…And Rogers?  Welcome to Russia.”_

* * *

_Clint broke away from them as he immediately started talking in Russian to some individuals in the crowd._

_Natasha looked back at Steve.  Blue and green.  Past and present.  Love and loss.  Anger and pain.  Their worlds were literally colliding as she stepped toward him, “Not here, Steve.  It’s not safe.”  And then she was walking away, far to the left, away from the dancefloor as the music tempo picked up again._

_Natasha took a sharp left turn down a dark hallway as the music began to fade into muted beats, only leaving the sounds of their shoes on the marble floors to accompany them.  Natasha led and Steve trailed, only a couple of feet behind her.  Soon, they were moving to the right.  Another hallway, right past a large picture window where the moon light shined inside, almost causing her skin to glow.  She turned her head slightly, convincing herself this wasn’t a dream and that yes…Steve was still behind her.  Like so many other images of her, this one right now of her in the moonlight was one he’d be drawing for years._

_Steve’s voice inside his head mocked him, ‘You’re only here to arrest her, right?’_

_Before he could tell his conscience to shut up, they were moving again, this time to the right and down another dark corridor._

_Another ten feet and then Natasha opened a door to her left and slipped behind it.  Steve followed her into the dark room as he heard her step from behind him, hiding behind the door as she locked it.  He felt around and found a light switch and immediately turned it on.  Her mask was off now and he took his off too._

_Their faces were finally exposed, but everything else was still hiding underneath the surface_

_They were in a bathroom.  From the look of it…a family one.  There was a single stall male and female restroom, and a large marble counter top with a wall to wall mirror around the corner from where they stood.  A small sitting area with a chaise lounge and loveseat sat behind them._

_They didn’t move until Steve looked at her arm as his jaw tensed.  Natasha was still in the corner as he stepped toward her, reaching down to touch her pale skin that was already starting to deepen with the tinge of dark red.  The mark would soon turn to a purplish color from where Ivan had just grabbed her._

_Steve’s fingertips brushed over the bruise gently as he whispered, “Does it hurt?”  Natasha bit her lower lip and shut her eyes as her thoughts battled.  She was going to fall.  She was going to lose it.  The only thing she had to decide on, was which emotional pit she was going to dive into._

_Reconciliation and reuniting?_

_No.  Steve was angry with her.  And Natasha was so infuriated at his stupidity in coming here.  Of course, she dove into her anger.  It was easier than the abyss of pain that awaited both of them._

_“What do you think you’re doing here, Rogers?”_

_There it was._

_The ease of the fight versus the harsh pain of the truth.  Steve knew exactly what she was doing, as she purposefully threw gasoline on that burning fire between them, “Don’t, Natasha.  What did you expect…that I’d never try to find you?”_

_“You’re a damned fool.  Coming to Russia…to what, arrest me?  Bullshit, Rogers.  You’re still trying to be a goddamn hero with me.  Guess what?  My life doesn’t have heroes.  They don’t exist.  This is my reality…and you don’t belong here.”_

_Emotions were charged already between them, and Natasha just put a live wire in open water._

_Steve narrowed his eyes, “You want to call bullshit?  Okay…let’s call bullshit, Natasha.  It’s bullshit that after everything, you betrayed us...and betrayed me.  It’s bullshit you ran like a coward.  And it’s bullshit that all of our memories are tainted because of it.  You want to talk reality?  Yeah, I’m here to arrest you.  I’m here to finally close the book on you.  I’m here to move past all of this this bullshit.”_

_Natasha didn’t know what to think, except that she couldn’t think…at least not clear or straight right now.  She pushed away from the corner and shoved him as he let out a breath through his nostrils.  But Steve didn’t move._

_She shoved him again, this time moving underneath his arms.  Steve grabbed her wrist instinctually, “No.  You’re not going anywhere.”_

_It had been over three years since they’d sparred.  It had been three achingly long years since they’d touched at all.  And now in a far-off country, in a palace, and inside a bathroom, their rolling emotions coursed between them like approaching thunder.  She shoved him again, harder this time, “Why…Why are you here?”  Natasha’s voice was harsh, but breaking underneath._

_She gripped her wrist and pushed him into the wall right next to the door as she slipped out of his grasp.  “You can’t be here.”  Her voice sounded a little more desperate as she went to hit his shoulder.  Steve missed it the first time, but saw it coming when she went to hit him the second time._

_He snatched her wrist in his hand immediately again, and this time turned her around.  Natasha’s back was now pressed against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her tight, holding onto both of her wrists now, “Stop it.  Not tonight.  You’re not going anywhere without me, Natasha.”_

_Charged couldn’t even begin to describe the atmosphere around them.  His breath hit her neck and he could feel her stomach rising and falling as she remained pressed flush against him.  Natasha honestly felt a little dizzy.  30 minutes ago, Steve Rogers shocked the living daylight out of her, danced with her, spoke Russian to her, and now held her tight in his fucking ridiculously strong arms.  Only he wasn’t here for all the reasons he’d held her like this before.  He was here…to arrest her._

_Natasha felt a little out of control with the emotions surrounding them as she huffed out an astonished laugh, “What, you think you’re going to carry me out of here like Tarzan, Steve?  Please.  How far do you think you’d get before someone shot you?”_

_There was a glint in Steve’s eyes as she turned her head and met his stare.  His anger had been more than stoked by her fiery spirit and defiance.  And at her attempts at deflection and avoidance which he recognized like the back of his hand.  He recognized everything because it was her._

_Yes, Steve may have been a fish out of water here.  But he was smart and incredibly skilled.  And the fact that he was here, had found her, and had surprised the hell out of her proved that.  And yes, he was in denial.  But he’d also done his research.  “I don’t plan to carry you anywhere, Natasha.  I plan on you walking out of here, side-by-side with me.”_

_She was about to laugh again, but he surprised her again.  His next move was out of a playbook that Steve would eventually regret, because it was one that Natasha would mirror at the cabin…on a treacherous morning two years from now._

_Natasha felt Steve shift behind her, and she closed her eyes…imagining for just a second.  It felt so damn good to be held by him.  Steve had released one of her hands as he brought his fingers to her waist, and moved up the dress on her back.  She held in a whimper, but Steve wasn’t trying to do anything like that with her._

_He had been moving his hand inside his coat pocket.  And then he surprised the hell out of her again.  Steve caught her off guard as the feel of cool steel hit her skin, causing her eyes to pop open.  She and any other law enforcement agent would recognize the feel and clicking sound immediately._

_Steve had reached into his jacket pocket to grab what was now around her wrist.  He’d cuffed her, and he’d cuffed his wrist too as he moved from behind her.  Natasha was now chained to him, affirming his earlier declaration…that she wasn’t going **anywhere** without him._

* * *

_Natasha had yelled and shoved before because she was incredibly worried for Steve and the potential danger he was in.  But right now?  As she looked down at her cuffed wrist, she realized how he used her shock to his advantage.  And she was fucking pissed, “Steve, you need to use that stupid brain of yours and let me go…now.”_

_Yes, maybe his balls outweighed his brain as Clint suggested earlier.  Yes, maybe he was in denial.  But Steve had convinced himself he could do this.  And **this** …right now, was the closest he’d come to actually following through with his plan of getting over Natasha Romanoff.  He knew her so well that he could tell she was both pissed off he’d cuffed her, and pissed off at the thought that he might actually go through his plan.  _

_They were both caught off guard next._

_Because before they could continue their literal shoving and staring match again, the alarms sounded.  The flickering lights turned on as the fire alarm began going off inside the bathroom.  Only seconds passed before they heard a pounding on the door.  Natasha’s veneer of anger faded immediately as she became incredibly scared for Steve._

_But Clint’s voice rang through the door, calming her instantly, “Tasha…Are you in there?  Let me in.”_

_Steve sighed as he flipped the switch and Clint came in quickly and locked the door again.  He took in the state of the two of them, raised his eyebrow at their stares, and then almost smirked at the handcuffs on their wrists, “Well I **definitely** don’t have time to get into whatever kinky shit the two of you are into, but you have to go.  Now.  Ivan and Oksana’s attack dogs stayed back at their orders because they were suspicious of you, Tasha.  And they couldn’t find you on the dancefloor or in the entrance or dining hall.  They were going to start searching elsewhere, so I panicked and pulled the alarm.”_

_Natasha shut her eyes, “Clint.”_

_“Don’t argue with me.  It’s the best way to get the two of you out of here.  You know where to go?”_

_Natasha looked at Steve, then down at their wrists, and then back at her brother before jumping off the cliff, making a decision, “Yeah.  I’ll meet you there…Steve, we need to move, **now**.”_

_Steve looked at Clint and didn’t hesitate.  He had his vehicle a mile away.  And this actually favored into his plan.  He just needed to lure Natasha to it.  He’d surprised her just now, and he could do it one more time.  Natasha grabbed Clint’s hand quickly, “Be safe,” as he responded, “Da.”_

_And then they were gone._

_Clint went back towards the dancefloor, through the maze of hallways, and Natasha was about to follow, but Steve stopped her.  She was quick, but she was cuffed to him, and he was so incredibly strong as he wrapped his fingers around her palm, pulling her in the opposite direction, “Steve, where do you think you’re going?”_

_“I’m not trying to be a hero, Natasha.  And I meant what I said.  We’re walking out of here side-by-side tonight.  Just not out through the main gate, where Ivan and Oksana’s men will be.”_

_She was shocked again.  Steve…knew a backway out of the Palace.  The fire alarm was already going off, so leaving through an actual fire escape door, wasn’t going to sound any alarms.  Steve took advantage of Natasha’s speechless state as he pulled her along, down another hallway that ran parallel to St. George’s hall, where they had just danced.  And right down that dark hallway, was an alternative door, that opened into an alternative street from where everyone else was moving.  Steve was taking her back to Red Square and towards the festival._

* * *

_Five minutes of tense walking and silence passed before Natasha finally cracked, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Steve.  You really think you’re going to take me back to the States and arrest me?  You’ve literally gone crazy.”_

_She was pulled along though, because right now she didn’t have a key (it was in his vehicle).  So if she did get the jump on Steve and incapacitate him somehow, all Natasha would be left with, was a 185-pound muscular bearded man lying on the ground, attached to her, and out in the open in Moscow._

_No.  Natasha would deal with this after they got to where he was taking her.  That wasn’t what was unnerving her though.  What was making her go haywire inside, was the fact that he was actually going through with this crazy plan of his.  He had come all the way here, tracked her down, learned Russian (she’d definitely be coming back to that later,) cuffed her, and somehow knew an alternative route out of the Palace._

_“I’m not crazy, Natasha.  You brought this on yourself.”_

_At that, Natasha laughed.  She genuinely laughed, bordering on being hysteric, “Oh Steve, you may have mastered what I’ve taught you about espionage over the years, and maybe you can pull lying off to the team, but you can’t do that with me…I may have run away, but you brought **all of this…** tonight…on yourself.  And you know it.”_

_They were approaching the festival and saw other guests from the Palace trickling into Red Square.  They were sticking out like a sore thumb again, especially with their handcuffs.  Natasha was surprised, yet again, at Steve’s quick thinking.  He shucked his jacket off, slid it down his arm that was attached to her, and proceeded to fold it over their wrists, making it look like they were simply walking arm in arm now.  With his Jacket folded between them, she quirked her eyebrow up at him, “Just how far are you willing to go down this rabbit hole, Rogers?”_

_“I’m in Moscow cuffed to you, Natasha.  I’d say pretty fucking far.”_

_They heard yelling from a far-off distance, and Natasha knew instantly what it was.  It was Ivan and Oksana’s security detail running from the palace to search the festival, trying to find Natasha to see if she was up to something.  They’d moved another couple of minutes, faking their smiles along the way at other festival attendees as Natasha started to panic, “Steve, I can actually see three of Ivan’s men coming.  They’re about 300 feet away across the Square.  What’s your plan now?”_

_Steve searched around the immediate area, and as luck would have it, his friendly bantering from earlier was about to pay off.  He pulled Natasha with him for about 15 feet before pretending to accidentally bump into the same older couple that had helped smuggle his jacket inside hours ago._

_The older woman beamed at Steve, leaving Natasha very confused, “Oh my, Dear.  Look who it is?  That nice American gentleman from before!”  The husband laughed and said, “Too bad we don’t have any vodka to celebrate the excitement from the Palace tonight.  But all is well, I see.  You found yourself a lovely lady.  Did you dance?”_

_Steve smiled and gripped Natasha’s hand, watching the security run past them as they successfully hid behind the older couple.  Natasha played the part, “Yes, we did dance.  And I was quite surprised at...”_

_Steve cut her off, “Alexander.  She was surprised to hear my name was Alexander, since apparently it is obvious how far I’ve strayed from my Russian heritage.  Even you picked up on me as an American right away.”_

_Natasha stared at Steve, wondering if she was in some episode of the Twilight Zone right now.  He squeezed her hand to play along, “Yes, well.  I guess I’ll just have to work hard at bringing the Russian out in you, Alexander.”_

_The older couple laughed as Steve added, “I’m so glad I bumped into you again.  But I’m afraid we must get going.”  The woman smiled, “Don’t you worry.  I knew you would find a lady tonight.  You two make the most of it.  Have a good evening!”_

_And they were off again, making their way towards the vendors.  Natasha stared at him as Steve said, “Don’t say anything.  Come on, we have to blend in.  You taught me well, remember?”_

_“Apparently, I taught you better than even I remember, Steve…or should I say, Alexander.”_

_Steve led them to a couple of merchants with clothing stands as a street dance and band were playing around them.  Steve quickly purchased a blue, linen button down, and fake reading glasses for himself, and a purple shawl and glasses for her.  He added in fedoras for both of them and then was pulling Natasha another 100 feet away as they made their way into an alley._

_Another alley flashed through Steve’s mind from a long time ago at Quantico.  He pushed it away…it didn’t matter because all these years later, and they were still fighting their way through lies and deceit._

_“Take the pins out of your hair, Natasha,” Steve demanded as he pulled her into the shadows of the night.  They found themselves in as close of proximity as they were in the bathroom, and that familiar push and pull loomed heavily.  Natasha did as he said though.  She had forgotten about her bobby pins.  That’s how frazzled his presence made her right now._

_Her hair fell out and Steve caught another hint of cinnamon as he shoved the urge away to run his fingers through it._

_He grabbed one of her pins, and unlocked the cuffs, momentarily freeing her wrist but held on to her just the same, “I’m taking these off just until we put this stuff on.” Steve tossed the pins in the alley, turned his jacket inside out, revealing the gray lining, and put it on Natasha as he lifted the skirt of her dress up along the slit.  Natasha opened her mouth, feeling his hands on her legs, and she had to snap out of it.  “What do you think you’re doing, Steve?”_

_Steve pinched his eyebrows together and blew out a breath, “We gotta change our appearance to blend in…Don’t get the wrong idea.”  Natasha shook her head, “The wrong idea…like what?  That you are on a suicide mission to arrest me?  I got it, Steve.  You’ve made that all crystal clear…How the hell did Bucky and Wanda let you do this?”_

_Steve looked away as he began folding and wrapping the fabric from her skirt around her waist, making it look like she was in a shorter Navy dress.  Steve wasn’t the only one to recognize things.  Natasha knew Steve like the back of her hand just as well._

_She scoffed, “You are such an idiot, Steve.  They don’t know, do they?  No one knows you’re here…What the fuck were you thinking?”_

_Steve let out a small grunt as he un-did his belt, wrapping it around her waist as tight as he could before he put his inside out tux coat that was now grey, over her, “I’m thinking…That I’d really like to put all of the shit with you behind me.”_

_She stared at him as he quickly took off his white oxford shirt.  She felt a little warmer as she caught the sight of his chest hair and his large biceps through his undershirt.  He had the blue linen shirt on within seconds.  She tried her best to hide how much her heart was racing and battling with the screaming that was going on in her head, “And you really think that what…if you somehow get me to the States, and bring me into the FBI, you’ll be hailed a hero, and you’ll just be able to erase me from your memory?”_

_She wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of it, but even the thought of his plan made her heart hurt._

_Natasha was now in a large gray coat, and a short navy dress cinched by a leather belt.  She had her hair down now and had glasses on as Steve wrapped the purple scarf around her and put the fedora on her head.  Natasha…was impressed and looked completely different than she had 15 minutes ago._

_Steve unbuttoned the top two buttons of his blue shirt, put on his own hat and glasses.  They fit in perfectly with the festival goers, “I already told you, Natasha.  This has nothing to do with heroics.  It has everything to do with consequences for your actions.”_

_Before she could say anything, Steve grabbed his gun from the coat pocket, put it in the back of his pants, and handcuffed the two of them together again._

_Natasha was honestly…amazed.  Steve seemed so focused and determined, like he was on an FBI mission.  He was, but it wasn’t for the FBI though.  He was on a mission to prove his denial wrong.  It was a mission to try and not be so goddamn miserable.  It was a mission to face the source of his pain, head on.  And the truth was, if Natasha wanted to slip away when he had her out of the cuffs for the 60 seconds he did, she could have tried to get away.  But she was almost hypnotized by the whole situation right now.  And the bottom line, was that she had to make sure she got Steve out of Russia safely, so she didn’t try to escape._

_Joined together again, with his white button down folded over their hands, they began walking out of the alley, completely blending in with the festival now._

_“Shit.”_

_Natasha saw them first, but Steve recognized three security men about 20 feet away.  They were the same three men that Steve had seen earlier in one of the small rooms when he’d first found Natasha.  They were talking on the phone and searching frantically._

_Natasha panicked as she squeezed Steve’s hand, “Steve…that’s Alexi, Rumlow, and Rollins.  I know you don’t trust me, but you need to believe me…they will not hesitate to kill you if they see me with you.”_

_Steve looked at the burly men with greased back hair, “We can get away if we run down the alley.”_

_Her body went rigid as one of them men turned in their direction, “No…Steve, kiss me.”_

_It was Steve’s turn to flinch now, “What?”_

_“Public displays of affection make people uncomfortable.”_

_“Yes, they do…”_

_Before Steve could argue or say anything else, Natasha pulled him by the collar towards the wall of the alley, tugging his face down to hers.  Everything collapsed as he looked in her eyes.  The fight was gone for a second, as they stopped thinking.  As they stopped fighting.  And as they jumped over the cliff together with their lips finding each other for the first time…in three achingly long years._

_They lost themselves in the moment.  Of course they did.  They’d been kicking this idea around as soon as Steve pulled her onto the dancefloor._

_Their lips met…and then their tongues found each other...And then their moans and sighs mixed together with the swells of Russian street music.  Wandering hands followed as hers ran up his back and his ran down her sides and behind her.  Steve covered all of her.  If anyone did notice them, all they saw was a pair of bare legs beneath a short Navy skirt, and a man in a fedora and blue linen shirt making out relentlessly against the wall at the edge of an alley._

_Honestly, it was a miracle they’d lasted this long to actually kiss.  Natasha sighed as she felt his tongue move into her mouth as their cuffed hands rested between their stomachs.  Steve groaned as he felt her hand dig into his neck a little harder, pulling him tighter against her.  This wasn’t part of the plan.  This wasn’t what was supposed to happen._

_But this was inevitable.  And it felt just as amazing as they imagined…More than they imagined._

_30 seconds.  A minute.  Five minutes._

_How long had passed, they couldn’t tell, as they finally pulled away, with swollen lips, heaving breaths, and dark eyes.  A couple of guys at the festival had whistled and laughed as they separated.  They stared at each other for a moment longer before Steve realized he’d have to improvise once again._

_Rollins, Alexi, and Rumlow were gone.  But the opposite side of the Square was now flooded with security.  The opposite side…where his vehicle was.  It was far too risky and dangerous to get to it right now._

_Good or bad.  Right or wrong.  They were cuffed together._

_Natasha caved.  Whether it was the kiss, or the unavoidable fact that she was glad he’d been so stupid to come to Russia…because she was…just so elated to be in his presence again.  And she wasn’t ready for it to be over.  So, Natasha shut her eyes and said, “We need to find a car, and I can get us somewhere safe for right now, until the Square dies down with security.”_

_Steve looked out across the Square.  He looked to where his vehicle was…that was all packed and ready to go to take them to St. Petersburg.  He looked…at where his plan was.  And then…he looked down at her, and all his logic went out the window.  Yes, Steve didn’t want to risk crossing the Square because it was crawling with security.  But the truth inside, was that Steve wasn’t ready for this to be over yet, either._

_So, Steve nodded as Natasha pointed in the opposite direction of his plan and vehicle.  In the opposite direction of the festival.  And in the opposite direction of Rumlow, Rollins, Alexi, and all the other security detail._

_They started walking down the alley at first.  And then they found themselves running.  Running together, away from Steve’s plan.  And running together, away from Natasha’s very harsh reality._

* * *

**_12 Years Ago –_ **

_Natasha was sprinting._

_She’d been chasing the person in front of her for four straight minutes through the wooded area around Quantico.  But really, she had been following the person for the last several days.  The sun was setting now, and it wasn’t exactly encouraged to be in the woods after dark.  But she didn’t care.  Natasha’s competitive nature and instinctual responses had taken over as soon as she set off in her chase._

_The red and orange colors of dusk vanished in the darkening sky as she zoned in on the shadowy figure in front of her.  She noticed the person was losing speed, and Natasha smirked as she gained ground and the distance between them shrank._

_Twigs snapped beneath her feet.  Adrenaline pumped through her system.  The cool air rushed by her face.  It was like an animal stalking its prey.  Natasha’s thoughts of catching him, overtook her mind as the distance became close enough that she could almost taste the victory._

_Victory over what, was to be determined in this made up cat and mouse game she’d manifested._

_And her taste of victory quickly disintegrated because as soon as she reached the spot where she’d seen him…only seconds ago…he was gone.  She couldn’t see anyone.  The only thing that surrounded her now were dark tree trunks and shadows from the timber._

_“Where the hell did he…?” Natasha started to mutter, but she couldn’t finish her statement.  The man she was running after came out from behind one of the trees and charged at her.  Natasha’s knees buckled as she felt the impact from him kicking her._

_Her hands caught her from going completely face first into the ground.  All of the excitement and adrenaline shifted inside of her as the competitiveness fueled frustration and anger now, “Stark, you Asshole!”_

_Natasha was back up on her feet within seconds and didn’t even brush the dirt and leaves from her hands and knees.  Tony took off to the right of her, sprinting as fast as he could, and Natasha let out a groan of frustration.  Her stomach was starting to cramp.  She grabbed her side and took several deep breaths as she fought the tightening of her muscles.  Breaking through the sharp sensations, she started running after him again._

_Two minutes later with sweat running down the sides of her face, she’d made it back to the perimeter of the woods, and saw the campus in the dark.  Natasha quickly ducked down, crouching behind an electrical box on the ground, barely making out Tony Stark’s shadow as he entered the nearby administration building.  ‘No way, I’ve come this far in the last three weeks, to let this ass beat me at the end,’ she thought to herself._

_Yes, there was some learning and growing, right along with Steve during the driving test at TEVOC.  But that had more to do with their personal relationship.  Natasha’s competitive nature hadn’t really changed.  Nor had her ideas on which lines should and shouldn’t be crossed on test missions and exercises at Quantico._

_And if she was overcompensating right now, for her pride being a little hurt from not being the absolute best at driving…well to hell with it.  Because Tony Stark had bested her and everyone else in driving, and Natasha **wasn’t** going to be beat by him here.  Not on this mission. _

_Winning.  Being the best.  Completing the mission._

_These were mottos and mantras for life that had been engrained into her since she was an early toddler.  It was second nature to her as she whispered in a low tone, “Not this time…You’re going down, Stark.”_

* * *

_Three weeks ago, the class at Quantico gathered in the auditorium early on a Monday morning, to once again hear the latest on their newest exercise.  There were officially six weeks remaining at Quantico._

_No one knew a thing about this new test as they all waited this morning.  The driving test was hell, because of the extreme schedules the instructors had kept the trainees on.  They were pushed beyond exhaustion all of last week.  And they’d recovered over the weekend, only to be back at square one…They were about to be thrown into a whirlwind again._

_“You only have six weeks left here at Quantico, and the last two missions you will all be a part of will be equally challenging and important.”  Fury had come out on the stage to address everyone in his normal black attire, “This is all of course…in addition to your normal exercises and training in and off the field, and in the academic area as well.”_

_Of course._

_The instructors helping today started passing out packets to everyone in the auditorium as Fury continued, “ **No one** is to open these until they are alone today.  They are meant for you, and you alone.”_

_Fury let his words settle, conveying the serious tone behind them._

_“In three weeks from now, you all will start training for the famous test at Hogan’s Alley, to prove what you’ve learned individually and collectively as a team in an actual operational setting.  That exercise always receives a lot of attention, so I’m sure you are all aware of its significance here.”_

_A few murmurs and head nods answered him.  Hogan’s Alley was sort of infamous for any trainee at Quantico.  With two missions left, the trainees knew, **that** one would be at the end.  This mission though, was a complete mystery still.  “While Hogan’s Alley is important…I tend to prefer this current test that I’m about to tell you about.  That probably won’t surprise you in five minutes from now.”_

_“This current mission…is called ‘Find the Mole.’  In your groups, you will all be given certain pieces of meaningless information.  I should say, the information might seem meaningless…but it is incredibly important for you to keep as your own.  One of you in each of your groups, will be notified in your packets that you are the mole.”_

_The room was filled with excitement, hearing about the mission, because honestly it sounded fun at first._

_“Your jobs in your groups are simple.  To protect your individual information, while working at trying to secure intel from your other teammates.  And above all else, try to find the mole.  The mole’s job is even more simple.  Remain hidden.  Act as everyone else.  Tell no one…And report intel back to the instructors when requested by us.  This is about espionage tactics.  This is about keeping secrets.  This is about protecting your own information against your closest friends you’ve made here.  And at the end?  Your team will need to come to a consensus, concluding who you all think the mole is within your group.”_

_“I know you all have a lot of questions about this, but the history of this mission, further details and instructions, and your individual information are in each of your envelopes.  If your team gets to the end and picks someone who isn’t the mole, congratulations to the mole within the group…you were successful.  But…success during this test, isn’t really measured by the mole’s success or failure.  That’s not how I think and operate…as you’ve discovered by now.  Because that’s not how the real world works, and it is not the only purpose of the test.  You are all to use your instincts, teamwork, ability to keep a secret, intelligence gathering, interrogation skills, and anything else related to the field of espionage to work.”_

_The room was abuzz with nerves and energy at hearing more details about what the next three weeks would entail._

_“The driving test examined your ability to push through exhaustion and deal with a test during an incredibly grueling week.  Hogan’s Alley will test the more physical side of the skillsets you’ve learned here.  And this test…well, it’s going to test your mental side and resolve and other things you didn’t even know you needed to be tested on.”_

_No wonder Fury preferred this test to Hogan’s Alley.  Fury and his mind games._

_“I will say it again.  The core goal of this mission is based on everyone protecting their own individual information and to identify the mole.  You will have three weeks to work together and to keep your information safe.  We will evaluate all of your performances at the end of that time.  I cannot emphasize **enough,** how important it is that you do not share information you are not supposed to with each other…I don’t care how close you have become over the last three and a half months.”_

_***_

_Three weeks later, Natasha currently found herself hiding behind an electrical box at night, dressed all in black.  She was hiding after sprinting and chasing after Tony Stark._

_How the hell did she get here?_

* * *

**Present Day –**

“Loki, I think we have something, finally.”

Wanda’s voice was more than excited.  It had been a little over a week since they were all reunited.  Since Natasha was brought to the FBI building. 

And in that time, the task-force had tried to follow the Lemurian Star money, and nothing had come up…until now.  It was late in the evening and Maria, Loki, and Wanda were working their night shift in the secluded hallway of the FBI building.  Tony had decided to stay later tonight too, so Wanda had all of their attention.

Clint was in the hospital room with Bruce and Laura and Natasha, who’d been in and out of it all day still.  She’d woken up yesterday morning, and _everyone_ had flooded into the room both days, out of excitement that she was awake.  They weren’t surprised that she’d been out of it still and asleep for most of the time. 

Steve…was even more silent yesterday and today than he had been all week.  _Something_ had obviously happened with Natasha waking up, but Clint and Steve didn’t say anything.  The emotions weighed heavily whenever anyone went into Natasha’s room…or really whenever Steve was around.  It’d been over 36 hours since she’d woken up now, and Clint and Steve’s silence about whatever occurred only left the team silently guessing about what the hell was going on. 

“Do you want to call Bucky and have him come up here too, Wanda?” Maria asked.

Bucky had just talked with her earlier when he decided to come in tonight to finally talk with Steve, “Wanda, he looks like a ticking time bomb ready to go off.  I don’t know if Natasha said something to him yesterday when she woke up, or if he’s finally just at his breaking point.” 

She smiled at him when he’d said it and kissed him on the cheek, “James, if there’s one person who Steve needs almost as much as Natasha right now, it’s you.  You’re probably the only person who might be able to get him to talk right now.  I’ll have Sarah stay with Peter for the night.  Oh, and James?  You’ve already forgiven Steve.  I know you have…so you might as well just tell him and get this pending conversation over with, that the two of you need to have.”

Bucky looked at her like he was thinking about arguing, but she just shook her head and kissed him again as he chuckled, “I wish I could be annoyed that you know me almost better than I know myself.”

She smirked at him, “Oh James, there’s no _almost_ about it.”

Wanda smiled remembering their conversation from a few hour ago and she shook her head at Maria, “No, don’t call James.  He went to find Steve, but he wasn’t in Natasha’s room because Clint said he stepped out to get some air.”

 _That_ …was almost as shocking as Wanda saying she’d found something with the Lemurian Star money trail. 

Steve _literally_ hadn’t left Natasha’s bedside, outside of the morning and afternoon go-through meetings with the team, and for a quick 10 minutes to take a shower down the hall every day.  Wanda’s concern regarding why Steve needed some air now…after Natasha finally woke up a day ago…was more than evident on her face. 

But that concern would have to wait right now, because there were more pressing matters at hand.  

It seemed like that’s what the team had been doing for over a week now…shifting around concerns, problems, and fires to put out, only to deal with whatever had the highest demand and need in the moment. 

“Maybe the brothers can finally kiss and make up.” 

“Loki,” Wanda started before he put his hands in the air, “I know.  I know.  The history and loyalty and their whole brooding existence is a _serious thing._   And Bucky was hurt by Steve’s actions.  I mean Bucky’s scowl has rivaled Steve’s this week because he’s been so upset.”

It was getting late and they were getting side-tracked as Wanda course-corrected them. 

“Alright.  Everyone come look at what I’ve found…Loki and I configured some algorithms a week ago to track similar patterns to the Lemurian Star after we found out about Sitwell.  We saw an uptick in money being funneled after Natasha disappeared from the campsite.”

“Is Poseidon scrambling?” Maria asked.

“Maybe…Or maybe that night was supposed to be the triggering event no matter what…since Steve told us that he and Natasha…weren’t supposed to live through that night.”

She paused for a second as the thought weighed heavily, “Anyway, the algorithms show the flow of money funneling back to the east coast here in certain patterns, which I expected…But what I didn’t expect was Sitwell giving us a lead on who a lot of that money was going to in the U.S.  The source was encrypted, but my deciphering system is working on breaking the encryption as we speak.”

A screen popped up on Wanda’s screen, indicating the de-coding had worked. 

“What’d you find, Maximoff?” Tony asked. 

She fell silent.  Loki peered over her shoulder and probably _should_ have stayed silent, “Well just when we thought things couldn’t get any more interesting…”

Wanda and Maria both hit him at the same time as the three of them turned around to look at Tony…who looked like he was going to grab Wanda’s computer and throw it.  Because on the computer screen in front of him, showed funds being wired from Jasper Sitwell, to two executives. 

The first wire was to Justin Hammer.  The second was to Obadiah Stane.  Both were Vice Presidents…at Stark Industries, the leading weapons manufacturer in the U.S.  The same weapons manufacturer who had the leading contracts out with the Department of Defense and the U.S. Military. 

The same weapons manufacturer that was ran by Tony Stark’s father. 

“Tony,” Wanda said softly.  But it was too late.  Tony had stormed out of the room to apparently get some air too. 

* * *

Grief.

Grief can overwhelm.  Grief can soothe and heal.  Grief is part of surviving, and it can make you react as expected. 

Grief…can also be like mother nature.  It can ebb and flow like water, at times being like calm and soothing waves.  But it can also turn into a tidal wave in an instant, swallowing you whole and drowning you. 

It would swell and encompass you if you tried to avoid it. 

There was no avoiding grief.  There was no beating it.  You either sank and drown in it…or you swam through it.  Grief _demands_ its payment from an individual because it is not a matter in which humans have a choice.  It is as natural and as unavoidable as the turning of the seasons, and as the ticking of time.  It is a natural process that occurs in the most unpredictable of ways. 

If a person pushed away from it, it pushed back.  If a person tried to beat it, it would hit back harder.  And if a person tried to avoid it completely, the tidal wave only grew, making the threat of being completely submerged worse down the road. 

No.  Grief cannot be avoided because one cannot run from grief.  And grief…cannot be controlled or predicted.  It can only be dealt with and managed.

Denial.  Anger.  Bargaining.  Depression.  Acceptance. 

The five stages of grief…And Steve Rogers knew them well.  He’d been dealing with all of them for the last 18 months.  _Well_ , his brother…who was searching for him at this very moment, might argue with the definition of ‘dealing with.’

Steve’s downward spiral first started after Natasha said goodbye.  It moved more into a rapid plunge after he’d been sent the photos of her 18 months ago.  And since then, he’d been tossed around between the five stages like a toddler with a ragdoll. 

Anger and depression always loomed and threatened to consume his days back then (and often did.)  He avoided acceptance at all costs.  And Steve would wake up, either bargaining or denying that he’d lost her, wanting _to_ _give anything_ for it not to be true…for it only to be a nightmare in his sleep, and not in his waking reality.

* * *

**_Bargaining:_ **

The stage that Steve was left thinking about over the 36 hours, wasn’t the flashiest of the stages.  But it was one that he would have never predicted a week ago.  Because he would’ve never predicted bargaining to have an answer for his endless nights of begging and screaming to have Natasha back. 

 _To give anything_. 

To bargain in grief against something that didn’t have a price…

It was a fool’s errand…And 18 months ago, it took Steve almost being lost and gone for good, only to be saved and pulled from the brink by the love of his family, to stop it. 

Once Steve had _accepted_ that the unthinkable had happened…that Natasha was gone…it wasn’t that his life got better.  The searing pain and agony, hung in his heart…always.  But his days did stop getting worse.  He found a way to focus on his family and work…and he stopped isolating himself.  And eventually, the days stopped being only passages of time to get survive and get through. 

Steve’s heart would never be full again, and the stages of grief still hit him like a meteor crashing down at times.  But after Sarah and Wanda and Bucky’s breakthrough with him, it was something he _started_ to be able to manage.  Because that was grief.  That was nature’s way of letting our bodies heal from the unthinkable.  Little by little, through his acceptance, Steve stopped drowning and started to swim. 

But his actual grief from 18 months ago, was the actual fool’s errand it turned out.  Because it was revealed over a week ago to be a mirage in the desert.  A fallacy…Because Natasha was alive, and Steve was left thinking about all of his nights he begged for her to be alive…And how he bargained against whoever might be listening to give her back to him. 

_To give anything._

People say they’d give anything to get something or to obtain a goal, or to go back in time.  But the truth was there’s no going back.  And what it meant…to truly give anything, often left people wondering if the price was too high. 

The price Steve thought he’d paid…Natasha dying…was something that almost cost Steve everything from his downward spiral.  But the transaction was a fraudulent charge, created by sinister and sadistic individuals pulling strings with people’s lives. 

And now Steve was back at square one, feeling the stage of bargaining infect him once again.  Because right now, Steve would _give anything_ for Natasha not to have been caught.  For her not to have been held for the last 21 months.  He’d _give anything_ to go back and erase the pain that her handler’s had caused her. 

And he’d give… _absolutely anything_ for the price in this case, not to have been paid.  Steve was told yesterday morning, the unimaginable.  And this time, there was truly no going back.  This time it wasn’t a fallacy.  The price in this case…was _unbearable_ for Steve to think about…that their unborn child was gone.  No.  There was no going back from that. 

How could anyone ever come back from any of this?  The answer was…in something that Steve didn’t want to work through right now.  He had no intention of wading through all the mucky stages of grief right now.  He had no intentions of finding his way all the way to acceptance. 

Steve didn’t have the answers, and bargaining wasn’t working, because…it wasn’t meant to work.  This, time his silent pleas wouldn’t provide him with a miracle 18 months from now.  This time the stage of bargaining was final, leaving Steve with the realization that no matter how hard he pleaded and wished, it was useless.  The unthinkable and horrifying loss had happened.  That was the point of bargaining…to make one realize reality couldn’t be change. 

But Steve would be damned if he was going to try and accept what happened right now.  So, Steve visited, possibly the easiest stage of grief.  One that he knew all too well.  An old friend that he thought would make him feel good right now. 

But that was a fool’s errand too. 

Because if Steve was going to be foolish enough to try and avoid any stage of grief again, like he had 18 months ago, then they would come surging back with a force stronger than ever. 

* * *

**_Anger:_ **

Possibly the strongest and easiest of stages to fall into. 

The stage that Steve had no problem ‘dealing with’ right now.  Yesterday morning Steve found out the truth behind Natasha’s tattoo.  He’d lasted a little over a day and a half before he had to get out of Natasha’s room to get some air. 

And right now, Steve was finding all the answers he needed, late into the evening…with a punching bag, downstairs in the main FBI workout room.   

It felt good at first.  It was the first time in a week he’d worked out, and the pain and ache in his arms and legs, which were still healing, screamed…But it felt good to move.  To let his body be in pain.  Because if his body was in pain, and he focused on hitting the bag as hard and fast as he could, maybe his brain could stop for a second.

But it really couldn’t stop. 

Steve saw Natasha’s body hanging from the rafters as he slammed his taped knuckles into the chained bag.  He narrowed his eyes and grunted with each punch as the memory of her saying goodbye ran through his mind.  Steve forced his weight down onto his injured leg, and an endless throb ran through him as he thought of the pictures of her body he’d received.

Sweat was dripping off his brow and his whole body was red under his soaked T-shirt and sweats.  Steve had been going at it for almost three hours.  Three hours as he dove into the anger.  Right now anger was easier to deal with than pain.  Three hours of relentless thrusts and hits and punches, as his arms and legs and fists grew numb.  Three hours as he churned through the tragic memories and reality of his and Natasha’s existence…and the previous two years of their lives. 

Suddenly, the thoughts of Natasha’s body in those pictures and from the cabin washed away, leaving Steve with a well of memories from their life together…before everything had turned to shit. 

Steve had dreamt of these beautiful memories often over the last seven years. 

They would tease him with how good their life had been.  And their life was more than good.  It was perfect with all its flaws.  Their reality was beautiful with all of their imperfections. 

The teasing became stronger…almost in a spiteful way, as Steve remembered their countless times in each other’s embrace.  In each other’s arms on their couch as they’d fallen asleep.  In each other’s car as they drove to run errands and go see their friends and family.  In each other’s hearts as they talked about _their_ future together, and how natural discussions of marriage…and kids…started to form in their daily conversations…All before she’d left seven years ago.

Steve choked out a gasp as his fist made contact with the bag again and again, and that wretched agony sunk its teeth into his heart. 

Kids.  Children.  Marriage.

Normal dominos that fell into place for people who found themselves falling in love with their life partner.  For people who wanted that.  And Steve and Natasha _had_ wanted it.  And those _normal_ thoughts felt natural and beautiful for five years.  Five years that felt like a fleeting second now, because it was gone in the blink of an eye. 

Just like Natasha.  And just like their child, who neither one of them would ever meet.

Steve could feel the cracks in his invisible wall starting to form.  A wall of numbness he’d been building since Natasha told him.  Steve’s body was tired.  It had _been_ tired, but his will and endless anger, pushed him here as he kept hitting the bag. 

But anger had an end point.  _That_ was the point of it.  Anger was so strong and powerful that you had to deal with it, but when it was over, it left you with the raw and open pain inside. 

And right now, anger was fading.  But Steve’s stubbornness pushed him past the rising tide that was flowing in fast.  He held it off for a little longer as he went harder at the bag now. 

Steve’s grunts and sighs turned dry as he began to heave a little more and more with each tired, exhausted breath he took.  His knuckles began to bleed through the tape on them.  Steve’s thigh began to seep red, discoloring his grey sweats.  And his heart began to weep, as that endless well of memories tapped into the pain inside of him. 

Steve couldn’t stop himself now.  He was in the thick of it.  And the happy and beautiful memories of their perfectly flawed and normal existence kicked him out into the hellish mire and surrounded him in a fog. 

Now, he was in the haze of his time without Natasha.   

Steve groaned, thinking about their fated paths from the last seven years.  And he thought about the intersection of time when their paths crossed from what he knew.  Bucky and Wanda’s wedding…Russia…the cabin…and each of Natasha’s journal entries consumed his mind as blood from his knuckles now left traces on the bag. 

His hands were raw, just like pain in his heart.

And then Steve made the mistake of letting his mind travel to the _unknown._

The missing pages that Natasha couldn’t journal about, because she was gone.  For the last 21 months of her life, she’d been held captive.  It wasn’t a life though.  Now Steve couldn’t stop himself as he thought of the unknown.  Her being taken.  What she could’ve possibly and must have gone through.  Of what they’d done to her.  Of what they… _did_ to her, that caused her to miscarriage. 

His groaning and grunting stopped as the powerful sounding force came out of him.  Steve screamed at the top of his lungs, as his fists began to hit harder and harder, while his mind blurred as tears formed. 

Fuck that mindset.  Natasha didn’t have a miscarriage.  Miscarriages were tragic and awful and painful, and mothers and fathers and families grieved over the loss of life in each one of those instances.  But _this_ wasn’t _that_.  Miscarriages happened because of biology or nature or maybe in some instances, just not being the right time for something that was meant to be. 

 _This_ wasn’t _that_.  This wasn’t nature or an accident or the biological process of life, struggling to go through a normal birth cycle for any number of medical reasons. 

This.  _This_ was vicious and purposeful.

Through a result of the torture they’d inflicted on Natasha, Ivan, Oksana, or one of their men, had killed Natasha and Steve’s unborn child.

And that did it.  Thinking of an image of blue eyes and red hair.  Or maybe green eyes and blondish brown hair they’d never see, did it.  The thought of Natasha having to live with those thoughts and pain…alone, while being held captive somewhere for 21 goddamn months…all while Steve had to live with the thought of Natasha being dead for 18 of those same horrifying months…did it.   

And it was shocking that Steve had lasted a day and a half without his it happening. 

Steve was finally feeling the pain inside him.

His anger was dissipating even though his heart was filled with rage.  His body was tumbling even though he refused to quit.  His raw and jagged shards of emotions formed, and they demanded to be felt. 

And Bucky…saw it all happening as he watched his brother literally breakdown a punching bag, as he crumbled mentally and emotionally before his eyes.  Bucky could deduce that something awful had happened or had been told to Steve to make him come here, away from Natasha’s room…To make him lose control like this. 

He knew he couldn’t get through to him with his words right now, so Bucky went up on the other side of the punching bag, that had a hole torn in it now, as sand started to fall out of it to the ground.  Steve didn’t even notice him.  But Bucky noticed Steve.  He noticed the blood on Steve’s knuckles and forearm and bicep and thigh from where his stitches were all weeping.  He noticed the ragged breathing and enraged look in his eyes.  And he noticed the pain that was breaking through that anger with an unstoppable force. 

Anger. 

The thing about grief is that a person can’t really control it.  They work on it and manage it as it changes over time.  But right now…what Steve was grieving over, wasn’t from long ago.  It was fresh and raw, which only made the anger and pain more powerful and unpredictable. 

“Steve.”

Bucky put his hands on the bag as he felt the fading force of Steve’s punches.  But he didn’t quit. 

“Steve, you need to stop.”

Steve heard him this time but didn’t look up at his brother, and continued with the weakening thuds against the bag.  Bucky took a breath, “Steve, look at me.”  He did and Bucky felt a cramp in his heart.  He didn’t know.  But it had to be something awful for Steve to be acting like this.  For him to have the amount of agony that Bucky could easily see as his eyes welled up. 

Bucky stepped around the bag now, causing Steve to almost buckle from the shift in support behind it.  And then Bucky grabbed Steve’s shoulder, gently pushing him away from the focal point of all his anger over the last two hours, “This bag isn’t going to help whatever it is right now, Steve.  And I don’t think it could take another punch from you even if it could.”

Steve bent over as he grabbed his knees from exhaustion, now breathing heavily through wheezing breaths.  He felt nauseous, panicked, and hollow all at once as he became light headed, and sat down on a chair that Bucky had brought over to him.  He brought one over for himself too.

Two brothers.  Sitting in two chairs by a broken punching bag.  What a site.

Bucky was going to talk again, but he didn’t have to.  Because Steve couldn’t stop himself now.  The anger had drained, and he was at the end of his rope…And he couldn’t hang on to anything as he fell into his words.

“Nat was pregnant when she was tortured.”

Bucky blinked.  And then looked at the ground before looking at his brother again.  He felt like he’d been hit by a truck.  His mind started to race, filling in the blanks about what he’d heard over the last week with tattoos and journals and mysteries, as to why and how and when.  But all the details didn’t really matter because a simple truth rang through. 

 _Was_ …meant past tense.  Natasha was pregnant.  She was tortured.  She was taken.  And there _was_ no child. 

“She was fucking tortured, and had a baby growing inside of her, that I didn’t even know about… _Our child_ was killed because of Ivan and Oksana.  And then Nat was taken.”

“Jesus, Steve.”

Was there really anything else to say?

There wasn’t…because Steve lost it as he finally started to tremble.  And then his trembling turned to shaking, and then crying.  And then everything came out harder as he stopped thinking, and finally let himself _feel_.

Bucky was at a loss as he cried with him.  He cried and put his arms around his brother’s shoulders like they did when they were toddlers, hiding in their closet from their father’s violence.  They cried as Bucky pulled Steve into his embrace a little more, just like they did when they thought they _weren’t_ coming home from Afghanistan in the Army, on a mission gone wrong.  They cried as they did _so many times_ , through Bucky’s wedding and Peter being born, through Natasha leaving and then her memorial, through Steve’s fallout…and then Steve’s return a week ago…and then and then and then…And now, finally this. 

They cried for seconds that turned into minutes and felt like hours.  Until Steve finally spoke through a shaky voice, “I know you’re furious with me and have every right to be.  I’m sorry, Buck.  I know I lied to you.  After I promised I wouldn’t after she left seven years ago.”

There were times over the last week that Bucky felt like yelling at Steve.  There were times he felt like really laying into how reckless he’d been.  He’d talked with Sarah and Wanda and Sam about it to no end. 

But…at the end of the day, Wanda was right. 

Bucky had already forgiven Steve in his heart.  They were brothers.  Closer than brothers.  They were brothers and best friends.  And Steve was genuine in his apology.  He meant every word he was saying, with his open and raw heart right now.  Steve knew he’d made mistakes…Big ones.  He knew he’d been careless and reckless…Beyond compare.  He knew he’d kept Bucky in the dark, when he swore he never would again…Both through lies and omitted truths. 

But in addition to all of that knowledge, Steve was torturing himself over his secrecy and deception.  He was tormented with all of it.  And now in addition, he felt an insurmountable guilt from the revelation of Natasha’s captivity and their child…being killed. 

“Steve, we’ll still talk about all of this.  And how stupid you were over the last five years.  But honestly, right now?  I need you to quit blaming yourself.  _I forgive you_ , and I need you.  Your family needs you.  Your team needs you.  And Natasha absolutely needs you.”

Steve sucked in a big breath of air for the first time in minutes as his tears finally ceased, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.  How the hell do I help her through this, Bucky?”

Bucky leaned back in his chair and wiped his eyes and scratched his own face, “I don’t know that I have an answer for you, Steve.  We’re all in uncharted waters with this _whole_ fucked up situation.  But I can tell you one thing.  Letting your guilt and grief build to the point your destroying a giant sandbag…and your knuckles and stitches in the process, isn’t helping anyone.”

Steve blew out a breath as Bucky continued, “And…I think you help her…by doing what you did yesterday, when she told you.  You just…be there for her.  But you gotta start by taking care of yourself.” 

Steve was a wreck.  He had been for a week.  He looked up as his bloody and taped hands ran through his beard and into his hair. 

“Steve, I saw you get swallowed up by your grief a year and a half ago.  I can’t do that again.  Neither can Wanda, Peter, or Mom.  Neither can any of your friends.  And god knows, Nat can’t have that because I guarantee she’s feeling the threat of drowning in your guys’ shared grief too.”

“I know she is.”

Bucky smacked Steve on the back as they stood up.  Steve was slower than his brother, and would pay for the punishing workout he just put his body through. 

Bucky and Steve hugged over a week ago, out of sheer relief from Steve returning alive from his solo and almost suicidal mission.  But this hug was filled with everything that hadn’t been said over the last week.  It was filled with apologies and love and forgiveness between the brothers.  They didn’t need to fight or have a brawl or be dramatic.  That wasn’t them and never had been.  Bucky knew Steve was punishing himself harder, than any words he could ever say to him would.  “Let’s get you back up to the room, so you can grab your stuff to shower, Steve.  You look like absolute hell.”

* * *

Wanda’s revelation about Stark Industries potentially being involved with Sitwell, Poseidon, and who knows who else in the U.S. Government had left Tony, Maria, Loki, and Wanda…shell-shocked.  They went barging into Natasha’s room to try and find Steve and Bucky, but they weren’t back yet. 

And Natasha was awake, much to all of their surprises.

“Tasha, I’ll never forget the look on Frank Castle’s face when you had better aim than him four years ago when we first met those idiots…” Clint stopped talking as they came into the room.

Clint had been trying to distract Natasha while Steve was away after she’d woken up worried.  He was apparently on the same type of mission as Bucky.  Operation, ‘Pull your sibling back from the brink of despair.’ 

It was working to an extent, but then the four task-force members had burst inside.  They didn’t expect her to be awake because she’d been asleep pretty much since she’d opened her eyes yesterday morning. 

Natasha panicked, immediately thinking something was wrong because Steve wasn’t with them, “Where’s Steve?”

_Where’s Steve?_

Two words that summarized the emotional state of Natasha at that moment.  The room was filled with a complexity of emotions.  Tony was reeling, not wanting to overwhelm her with his own feelings of being overwhelmed and left the room.  Maria went after him to try and help him out, and possibly call Fury. 

And Wanda and Loki were stunned, finally seeing their very dear friend awake and alert for the first time.  “Well, we really screwed up that entrance, Wanda,” Loki grinned.  But Natasha pinched her brow, “Where’s Steve?”

Clint jumped in, “It’s okay, Tasha.  He just stepped out to get some air.  I’m sure he’ll be back soon.”

Wanda and Loki were tugged in two different directions.  Their heads were screaming for them to talk with Bucky and Steve to catch them up to speed on what they just found, and more importantly Fury…to see what they should do next. 

But their hearts took over because Natasha was awake.  Ever the reader of emotions when people were hiding something, Natasha sensed something was wrong immediately, “What’s going on?”

Wanda ignored her question, “Natasha, we can talk about that later.  Can we just…oh my goodness, I’m just so happy to see you’re awake.”

Wanda rushed over as Loki followed, both hugging her gently.  Natasha was so happy to see them, and was overwhelmed, and was really unable to process any of it right now because something was clearly going on.  Tony just rushed out of here and Maria followed…and Steve wasn’t there, which made her panic start to take over.     

Her and Steve hadn’t talked since she’d woken up yesterday morning...when she’d told him about the tattoo and their child.  She’d hardly been awake, and when she was, Bruce and Laura and Clint were there. 

The messy situation got even sticker when Natasha heard Tony yelling outside the door to either Fury, or Happy, or god knows who else on the phone…about the very strong evidence they’d just discovered regarding Stark Industries’ involvement with a terrorist organization.  With Poseidon. 

The same terrorist organization that Natasha and Clint were forced into.  The same group, who had put Ivan and Oksana in their lives, who had imprisoned Natasha for the previous 21 months. 

Natasha’s breathing increased as she tried to sit up in bed.  Clint tried to help her but her focus was on what the hell was going on.  She gritted her teeth and winced through the pain in her body as she forced herself upright.  She pushed through the tightening in her stomach and focused on Loki and Wanda, “What’s going on?”

“Natasha, I don’t know…”

Wanda started but Natasha cut her off, “Wanda, we can do all of this mushy crap later.  I’m here.  I’m awake.  And I want to know what the hell is going on.  I _know_ whatever it is, has to fucking do with Ivan and Oksana.”

Loki grinned, “God, I’ve missed you, Natasha.  You should see how dejected everyone is here without you and me keeping things interesting.  It’s like they’ve all got their knickers in a 24/7 twist…And I’ve certainly missed how you scold us all like children when you get frustrated.”

Loki was trying to keep things light.  And he _only_ had good intentions when it came to Natasha.  But the mention of children…right now…caused Natasha’s eyes to betray her as the evident pain filled her eyes.  She shut them and drew her hand over her stomach.  And Wanda and Loki looked at each other. 

Natasha wasn’t the only one who could read people exceptionally well.  The entire team was skilled, but Wanda was almost as good as Natasha.  She always had been.  And it didn’t take much for her to start filling in the pieces. 

Steve needing to get air.  The mood in this room being filled with hidden sorrow for the last day.  Learning Steve and Natasha had been together two years ago.  And now, Natasha running her hands over her stomach, physically closing off at the mention of children. 

And most importantly, Wanda was a mother.  Somehow she instinctually _knew._

Wanda didn’t know the details, and wasn’t going to ask.  It wasn’t her place, unless Natasha wanted it to be.  But she didn’t have to ask.  Natasha opened her eyes and connected with her. 

Wanda and Natasha…friends who truly hadn’t been around each other in seven years.  Friends who were supposed to be sister-in laws.  Natasha looked at Wanda, who’d gotten married and had a child all in the span of time she’d been gone. 

And then she looked at Loki, her other partner in crime in their Quantico days, who’d she’d only seen by chance five years ago on the rooftop, as they watched Wanda’s reception.  Her other friend, who had helped set in motion the events to save her, over a week ago.  It was the first time, in seven _very_ long years, they were truly all together and aware of each other’s presence.

And while Loki maybe didn’t connect as many dots as Wanda had, he was overwhelmed at the thought of Natasha finally being _with_ them mentally.  Clint stood up, wanting to get out of the room as quickly as possible to give them some space and time.  He said he was going to go call Laura with an update on Natasha over the last few hours. 

* * *

**_Depression:_ **

Depression could sneak up on someone. 

It could linger in the background as a person dealt with other emotions.  But…it was necessary as it slowed a person down in order to deal with their pain when necessary. 

And right now, it was more than necessary.  The pain and sorrow were recognizable on Natasha.  And Natasha knew…that Wanda _knew_ as soon as their eyes connected. 

And then Natasha remembered the feeling, immediately after the child was gone.  Immediately after she’d been taken back to her room after begin tortured.  She remembered feeling…like there was _nothing_ left for her to feel as she said goodbye to Clint.  And then she remembered her goodbye to Steve. 

It was all too hard to think of while she was waking and living right after it happened.  With knowing that her child was no longer alive. 

Their child. 

Natasha’s eyes closed as she remembered putting the journal down on her table in her room, and then darkness.  21 months of darkness, only to have a light shined upon it a little over a week ago, as Steve and her brother brought her back into the world.   

Steve.  Her love.  The man she couldn’t live without but was forced to. 

The man who was the father of their unborn child and who was not by her side right now.  She was alive and back in that light, but all she wanted to do was crawl into the corner with Steve and turn everything off as Wanda connected with her again when she opened her eyes. 

Yes, Natasha knew that Wanda knew, and Natasha’s stubborn and demanding tone from a minute ago, dissolved in an instant. 

Wanda didn’t need any prompting.  She went around the side of the bed carefully, and crawled into the hospital gurney, right along-side Natasha.  Wanda knew.  Not the when, where, or how.  But she _knew_.  She was a mother…and saw it all over Natasha’s face. 

And Natasha’s already frail wall collapsed as Wanda drew her into her arms, “I know this means _nothing_ , Natasha.  But I’m so, so sorry.”  Loki drew a chair up to the bed and grabbed Natasha’s hand and just listened, learning all he needed to, as the blanks started to fill in. 

Wanda was so careful and _so gentle_ with her, holding her like a glass that was about to break.  It didn’t matter, because Natasha began to break anyway as the depression took hold and her pain poured out.  She cried as Loki and Wanda wept for her too.  They wept for the pain they clearly saw on Natasha’s face as Wanda placed a hand over Natasha’s as they held her stomach together.  And they wept for everything they couldn’t see…for the pain inside all her heart.    

The thing about depression, is that sometimes by slowing down, you’re able to find something again. 

And that’s what they did.  They had found each other again.  The three of them laid there with Loki holding both of their hands now.  The three friends shared so few words, but somehow understood each other…just as clearly as they had, before everything turned toxic seven years ago. 

Close friendships.  Close relationships like that.  They can be like riding a bicycle.  No matter the distance and pain and separation…when people decide to come back together, and find themselves truly in the same space with each other again…Well, sometimes things don’t change.  And it’s beautiful. 

Sometimes, friends can help you wade through the dark waters of depression, like Loki and Wanda were now.

“I guess we’re not going to wait on the mushy crap, now are we Natasha?”

Loki’s words were small and not meant to be funny.  But being together.  The three of them…it just felt so comforting.  Steve and Natasha weren’t the only ones to lose each other.  While they had the strongest and most painful and tragic tale off loss over the last seven years…They’d all lost.  All of them.  They’d lost friends.  They’d lost family members.  They lost a part of themselves.  And now they stood a chance to finally get something back.  It was the fight of their lives because they had each other again, and they’d have to help each other through it.  Just like Wanda and Loki were helping pull Natasha from her depression now.    

And it felt good.

The three of them burst out laughing.  And it was the first time that Natasha had laughed, since she couldn’t even remember.  It felt like the sun had shined a light on the darkened room as they cried and laughed and held each other, until Natasha finally said, “Wanda…you made such a lovely bride.”

Wanda looked at Natasha, knowing that her and Loki had actually been there on her wedding day…And then they laughed and cried all over again, just feeling what it was like to be in each other’s company again.

Just like Bucky and Steve, sometimes a lot of words weren’t needed.  Sometimes, a person could solely rely on the built-up strength and history from the past, as they supported loved ones through times like these. 

The three of them didn’t have the twisted and intense complexities that Natasha and Steve had.  They didn’t have the aching pain of goodbyes and cabins and soul crushing love to work their way through.  They didn’t have the personal feeling of knowing what it was like to journal to a soulmate for seven years.  Or the feeling of travelling around the world, learning a language, tracking down the love of a lifetime, and going on a suicidal savior mission to rescue that same love from the _same_ cabin that their unborn child was conceived in. 

No.  _Nothing_ could compare to the murky darkness and serrated emotions that awaited Steve and Natasha. 

The rest of them though, would have to help them through it however they could.  That much they were sure of.  So, the three of them relished in the feeling of relief, no matter how short lived it could be.  That was the wonder of friendship.  That was the beauty of the three of them. 

“Wanda, can I ask you something?”

“Anything, Natasha.” 

“I know there’s a lot to talk about.  And I don’t mean right now…But…I’d really _love_ to meet Peter sometime.  I’ve thought about him often ever since I knew he was born.”

There were logistics to figure out, and discussions from a concerned and protective father and grandmother that would ensue, but Wanda was so touched at the thought, that of course she said, “Yes, Natasha.  Peter will love both you _and_ Loki.” 

The door to the room startled all of them.  Steve and Bucky were back. 

The image was so jarring to Steve, seeing Natasha looking more at peace, with almost a smile on her face.  She was in the arms of Wanda, while Loki held her hand.  He was speechless, and he didn’t know what to do. 

Natasha felt relieved and more at ease, immediately seeing him back in the room, but then she saw his eyes…and instantly felt all of the guilt and pain come rushing back to her.  Depression was taking hold again. 

The unpredictable stages of grief. 

The unspoken and immense pain between her and Steve filled the room.  And then Natasha glanced over at Bucky and felt even worse. 

It wasn’t that Bucky was glaring at her.  He wasn’t.  But he just wasn’t in a place where he could go over and talk to her or hug her right now.  Bucky felt awful for her, but he was coming at this from the prospective stance as a brother, and a husband, and a father.  He was coming at this from a man who’d watched his best friend and brother almost drown in grief, and lie over and over again, and almost die a week ago, saving her. 

Bucky knew how to help Steve.  And he meant what he told him 30 minutes ago.  But he didn’t know exactly what to say or how to act around Natasha right now, and he didn’t want to make matters worse, so he only addressed Wanda.

“Wanda, Maria said you were looking for me.  Tony looks like he’s going to kill someone.  What happened?”

The mood shifted in the room instantly from comfort and friendship to awkward tension.

Wanda tried to look at Bucky to tell him to stop whatever brooding he was doing right now, but it was no use.  Bucky dug his heels in as Wanda got up from the bed after giving Natasha’s hand another squeeze.  Loki stood up too, and Steve… _couldn’t_ take his eyes off of where their hands just were…on Natasha’s stomach. 

He felt like he could lose it again in an instant, so he leaned into office talk, “Yeah Wanda, what’s going on with Tony?”

Just like that the walls were up.  After so many punches and tears and hugs that’d been shared tonight between friends, Natasha and Steve closed off from each other.  Steve was thrown off by how Natasha had clearly opened up to Loki and Wanda, and seeing how easily they seemed to be able to help her.  And Natasha felt all the guilt and pain of everything as Steve shifted his gaze from her to Wanda. 

These were the murky waters of pain and love that needed to be waded through in order to find the open sea…but not now.  The tension increased as Wanda looked at the brothers with a frustrating stare but shook her head and answered, “We found a connection with the Lemurian Star money and Sitwell…being paid to Stark Industries, to Obadiah Stane and Justin Hammer.  Our guess is Stark Industries had been supplying Poseidon with a lot of their weapons across the world.”

Steve blew out a breath, “Jesus.”

And Bucky followed with, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.  Is there anyone we know that isn’t in the terrorist or spy business?”

That was like a dagger.  And Bucky…didn’t mean it towards Natasha…at least not directly.  But good god, how many more people were they going to find actively working with Russian Regimes against the U.S.?

“James!”

Bucky threw his hands in the air and walked out of the room, leaving Loki, Steve, and Natasha.  And the awkwardness only increased.

“Obadiah was Tony’s godfather…now it seems to me, like he’s a leading character in _The Godfather.”_

The joke was as awful as it sounded from Loki… _So_ awful that even he groaned, but good heavens, the tension in the room was thick enough to suffocate someone, “Well, when my sarcasm and jokes fall as flat as that one, I know my time in here is officially done.  You two kids have fun.  Rogers, you might want to wipe the blood from your knuckles.  You look like you met a brick wall…repeatedly tonight.”

And Loki was gone, leaving the only two people that really needed to talk, alone.

* * *

The silence only lasted a half a minute, but it might as well have been an hour because it was painful as Steve looked at the floor and Natasha looked at the edge of her bed.

“That…uh.  That was the first break the team’s had all week in searching for intel on Poseidon.”

Steve’s words were as stale and awkward as they sounded. 

Natasha looked up at him and it was like they were standing on the opposite sides of glass, trying to figure out how to get through to something they could see so clearly.  Trying to figure out how to shatter through this invisible force field that existed between them. 

When Natasha had woken up over a day ago, it was out of love and desperation that the tears and sorrow…and apology and revelation came out.  It was traumatizing.  But now…in the normalcy, if you could call this normal, of both Steve and Natasha truly being awake and in each other’s presence, it was awkward.  With _so much_ unsaid between them, it was _painfully_ awkward.

“That’s good, Steve, I think?  Or maybe it isn’t.  I know Tony had a tense relationship with his father anyway,” Natasha was speaking with as much staleness as he had.  Steve’s reeling mind burst through though, “What were you and Wanda and Loki talking about?”

Natasha shut her eyes and took a large breath trying to move again, but showing all of the ache from her sore muscles on her face.  Steve came over to try and help her but she shook her head, “I can do it…I need to do it.”

Steve just stood there, feeling as helpless as he had in the last week, but even more so now.  And Natasha laid there, feeling just as helpless and like a burden to him.  She could read him so well, and he was just the same with her. 

But right now?  They couldn’t see the end of their own noses because they were swallowed up by the twisted tragedy that was their life.

He stepped back and Natasha realized how he took it, “Steve, I didn’t mean…”

‘I don’t know how to help her.’ 

That’s what Steve had said to Bucky.  And he felt it with all of his heart right now as he watched her.  But her eyes were distracted, turning to his taped and bloody knuckles, “Who’s the unlucky guy?”  A hint of her sarcasm sounded like music to his ears as he scoffed, “Some punching bag who did me wrong.”

And just like that, the smallest amount of tension was sucked out of the air.  She smirked at him, “Need me to go find the bag and teach it a lesson?”  He gave the slightest grin back to her.  If only it were that easy though. 

“Steve, can I see your hands?” He was thrown again but drawn in by her words and eyes, bringing his chair over to her bedside.  “Natasha, you don’t need to…I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

Natasha let out a sarcastic laugh at that, “Steve.  _Everything_ hurts right now.  Everything.  It hurts to breathe.  To move my hand.  To turn my head.  It hurts to think and feel.  I’m guessing it’s the same for you…otherwise you wouldn’t have needed air…and to find something to hit a countless number of times.  I know I don’t need to.  But _I want_ to.”

Blunt.  Borderline harsh.  But absolutely true. 

“I don’t think you realize how much I missed your bossiness.”  Steve attempted a smirk as he lifted his taped hands over the bed railing and placed them by Natasha as she ran her fingers over them.  Her fingers felt like medicine as she ran her thumbs over his bruises and the tension finally started to ease between them. 

Natasha winced, biting her lip as she started to pluck and pick at the tape on his knuckles…until she started to finally peel.  Such a small movement, caused them both such physical discomfort, but it also felt amazing.  Steve watched as her determination set in, as she pulled the tape away on one hand, and he was just as mesmerized by her as he’d been when he’d first crashed into her on the running trail. 

She felt Steve’s stare, and soaked in the comfort and safety of him being close, feeling the rough calluses on his fingertips as she pulled away the tape on his other hand. 

Battered.  Bruised.  Bloody. 

It could describe both of them.  It could describe the outsides or the insides of their bodies.  It could describe everything they’ve fought and clawed their way through to find themselves right here.  Right now.  Steve folded his fingers over her palms, and they took a breath together, “Thank you, Nat.”

But the fragile bubble and small reprieve was over as the tension rose again, “Don’t do that, Steve.  Don’t thank me.  My god, don’t thank me.  I can’t…”

The unpredictable stages of grief overwhelmed as depression took hold again.  The few steps forward they’d taken through their tender touches and words over the last few minutes, unraveled quickly as the guilt weighed heavily. 

Natasha began to pull her hands away, but Steve held on, “Don’t you do that, Natasha.”

He meant everything he said to Bucky earlier.  He didn’t know how to handle any of this.  _Any of it._ He was lost and so was she. 

They were lost, and _they had lost_ so much.  But what he also knew, was no matter how angry he was, and how much they had to work through, the love was still there.  The last few minutes provided a balm on his heart, that was more soothing than any amount of alcohol or any time at a punching bag could ever provide. 

“Natasha…please look at me.” 

Their eyes met again as Steve held onto her hands a little tighter, “Natasha, I know there is so much to say.  I know there is a lot we have to figure out.  And there are mistakes in our past that we can argue and fight over.  Believe me, there’s plenty of them.  But can we both… _please_ just try to stop blaming ourselves for things that weren’t our fault?  At least for right now?”

Her lip was trembling and his eyes began to glass over.  “They took so much from us Steve.  They took…”  Her voice began to shake as his eyes turned down, knowing exactly what she was thinking, “I know, Nat.” 

She was exhausted and so was he.  He definitely needed a shower from working his body to a pulp downstairs with the punching bag.  But Natasha grimaced through her discomfort by sliding over as far as she could on the bed, making as much space available as she could for Steve.  He looked nervous, not wanting to hurt her, “Steve, I promise you, you’re not going to cause me anymore pain.  Please…”

That was all it took.  Showers be damned.  Information on Stark Industries be damned. 

It was late and they were both tired.  And Natasha needed this…Steve needed this…more than they could even say right now.  Steve stood up and found a way to get into the narrow bed, and pulled her into his arms as gently as he could.  They breathed through the discomfort in their aching muscles because yes, this is what they _needed_.

“You think we’ll still fit like we did back in my twin bed at Quantico?”  Natasha’s attempt at a joke caused Steve to smile, as he kissed her forehead and rubbed his hands along her spine, “Yeah, Nat.  We still fit.” 

Natasha leaned forward to kiss him on the lips, but Steve just lulled her to sleep, “Shh…I’ve got you, Nat.”  Their exhaustion took over as she fell asleep in his arms.  Steve drifted off soon after, with her head in the crook of his neck, and his lips on the top of her head.  For the first time in a very, very long time, they had the comfort of each other to battle their dreams and nightmares as they slept.  For the first time, the depression of being alone and lost had a fighting chance to be fought as they faced it together. 

* * *

_Natasha woke from the hospital bed…alone.  It was empty.  Steve wasn’t there._

_No one was._

_The silence was deafening as she looked around in the dark, with only the red exit sign over the door lighting the way.  Getting up from her bed slowly, expecting to be in pain from her recovering body, she was surprised.  She was in no pain at all.  Her body wasn’t weak…she was as strong as she had been before…_

_Feeling a surge of energy shoot through her body, Natasha sprung up and jumped the rest of the way out of bed grinning.  She shoved away the nagging feeling in her head and tested the waters of her newfound strength.  Stretching, and bending over, and jumping a little, she felt like a new person.  She was absolutely amazed…feeling like she did before…_

_That was strange…She wasn’t in her hospital gown that she’d been in a moment ago.  Now she was dressed in all black.  Black leggings.  A black sweatshirt.  Black boots.  Pushing away that itch in her head again, she walked towards the door.  It was locked.  There were cameras there to keep her safe.  The task-force had told her.  But was the door always locked?_

_No.  Furrowing her brow, she bit into her lip as she tried harder to push on the door.  She used all of her strength pushing and shoving, until finally she crashed through the entrance, into the hallway.  She rubbed her shoulder, but no pain was there.  Okay, this was really strange now.  There was no light down the hallway from where the team was usually working.  Maybe they’re in the spare room with the workout equipment.  But the room wasn’t there._

_Internal alarms officially went off inside of Natasha as something felt off.  This felt all wrong as she turned back around…now, to a closed door.  Locked again.  She couldn’t get back inside her hospital room.  A slow building anxiety started to rumble inside of her as she started noticing changes around her._

_She wasn’t in the hallway of the FBI building anymore.  Suddenly her senses overwhelmed her.  She saw a flickering dim light above her with exposed pipes that were rusted and dripping in spots.  The anxiety built inside of her.  The sound of the leaking pipes.  The look of a dank and dark room surrounded her…and it was all cement.  Cement walls.  Cement flooring.  Cracked cement that felt damp and cool to the touch._

_No.  This was wrong.  She’d…been here before, but she shouldn’t be here now.  She was at the FBI, in the made-up hospital room…with Steve._

_Steve._

_“Steve?”  Her voice cracked, making her realize she wasn’t just anxious and nervous right now.  She was scared, feeling lost again.  Feeling lost and alone and scared just like…No.  She **couldn’t** be back here.  Suddenly all traces of the FBI room and hallway were gone.  She was completely immersed in her memories from where she came from.  From where she was held over the last 21 months.  “Steve?”  _

_Her voice sounded a little more desperate as it rang over the echoed concrete.  And then she heard the now, very old wooden door, threatening to open as the lock rattled.  Someone was on the other side._

_“No.”_

_She wasn’t going to let them take her this time.  Natasha reached down, grasping her stomach protectively, remembering everything now.  They wouldn’t take this.  They wouldn’t take their child this time.  She’d been sold into slavery with her brother when her parents failed to protect her.  She **wouldn’t** fail her child.  She ran to the back of the cemented room and looked up to the small crawl space of a window above her.  It was out of her reach.  It was too high for her to jump.  And even if she could, there were steel bars on it.  _

_She was trapped._

_Panic and fear rose inside of her rapidly as she crouched down in the corner.  She could hide.  She was all in black.  A futile effort, but it was her only chance.  She put her hood up and slunk down in the shadows as the door opened.  Clasping her fingers over her stomach, Natasha held her breath, talking to Steve inside her mind, ‘I’ll protect our child, Steve.’_

_“No, you won’t, Natasha.”  She broke out into a cold sweat at the voice.  Oksana.  She hadn’t said anything out loud.  How did she hear her?_

_“I hear everything Natasha.  You can’t run from us.  You should know that by now.  If you refuse to be one of us, you will pay.  You will pay with the life of your friends.  You will pay with the life of your brother.  You will pay with Steve’s life.”_

_Tears threatened to leak out, but she shook her head.  This was a dream.  “Wake up, Natasha!”  She yelled at herself, holding her hands tighter around her stomach, “Wake up!  Steve?  Can you hear me?”_

_A man’s laughter filled the air.  Ivan came to stand by his wife as shadowy figures followed, filling in the small space, “You can’t wake up, Natasha.  We have you, and you’re never going home.”_

_No._

_She would fight.  “No.  You never had me, Ivan.  I was never yours.  I was never owned by your goddamn program.  And I will never betray the people I love again.”_

_He struck her hard across the cheek as he came into the faint moonlight through the tiny window above them, “You’re still just a stupid girl, Yelena.  You think we never had you?”_

_Ivan started laughing as Natasha tried to make her move and run.  But the shadowy figures caught her holding her in place as she kicked and screamed.  Oksana came forward, with her icy stare piercing through Natasha’s attempt at defiance.  “Oh Natasha.  How sweet.  You abandon us for the Navy.  Then the spy falls in love with the soldier.  You’re stupid enough to think you could have had a normal life.  But do you think he would want you now?  After you betrayed him.  After you left him.  After you lost his child?”_

_“NO!”_

_Natasha screamed.  She wouldn’t let them hurt her baby.  She screamed again, this time kicking and fighting as hard as she could, landing a few hits on her handlers.  But it was too late as the fear and reality swallowed her whole.   Natasha was drug across the room she’d been held in, like she and Clint were drug away 21 months ago, when they first got back from Kazakhstan.  When she’d first learned she was pregnant._

_‘I can still save us.’ She thought, but Oksana’s laughter rang through._

_“You foolish girl.  You can’t be saved.  You’ve already lost…and you’ll never be free.”_

_It had already happened.  Natasha looked down, feeling empty inside as she collapsed.  She held her hands over her stomach only to realize nothing was there.  She looked at them again as she cried out a guttural sound, realizing that they were now covered in blood._

* * *

**_Denial:_ **

“Natasha.”

She was shivering, trying to open her eyes.  Her body was in a cold sweat as she felt pressure on her hands.  Steve was holding onto them again, as strong as he needed to…to keep her from scratching herself. 

“Natasha, wake up.  It’s me, Steve.  I’m here.”

Steve’s voice felt warm as she tried to breathe through the fear that filled her, freezing her in place as the nightmare was still fresh in her mind.  He was here.  She wasn’t alone, “Just breathe, Nat.  Listen to my voice and just breathe.”

She soaked in the soothing sounds, realizing she was in the hospital bed again, with him…tucked into his arms as he surrounded her, holding her hands and protecting her body from herself.  Natasha opened her eyes, finding such a calm from the beautiful blue in his gaze.  They reminded her of calm waters…like the lake on their weekend from so long ago. 

She looked down at her hands, seeing Steve’s protectively holding hers again, and she knew that she’d tried to scratch…again.  He looked at her, and saw her brain mentally blaming herself as he kissed her forehead, “It’s okay Natasha.  I’ve got you.”

Natasha looked up at him, feeling all of the safety and security between them as her hands moved to his sides, pulling herself closer.  She searched his eyes, trying to find more comfort from her nightmare that only he could provide.  She begged with her eyes for more as she leaned up toward him, moving her lips toward his…but Steve pulled away.  He kissed her forehead again, and pulled her into his arms tight and secure, “I’ve got you.”

He did have her, but she sighed quietly in frustration.  She’d had another nightmare, and he’d been there for her.  And what was most upsetting to her right now, was the fact that he’d pulled away from a kiss from her…again.  A real kiss.  Not the comforting, loving, and tender brushes as he soothed her pain away, assuring her he wasn’t going anywhere.  Those were needed and wanted and plentiful.  But a _real_ kiss.  One that she’d been longing for, since they last had one two years ago. 

No.  Steve had pulled away again, and Natasha sighed. 

Three weeks had passed.

Three weeks since that first night they’d fallen asleep in each other’s arms, soothing each other’s scars and shattered hearts.  Three weeks after they’d taken a step forward, in finding a way to deal with their depression and anger and bargaining.  The waves came and would continue to crash, but they had each other each night to hold onto, soothing each other like salve on an open wound.  Three weeks where it slowly felt like moving two steps forward and one step back.  And at times, three weeks of moving one step forward and two giant leaps back. 

Three weeks of exercising and strength training and recovering physically.  And three weeks of leaning _very_ heavily into their current stage of grief, that was prohibiting them from truly moving forward individually and together. 

Denial.

Clint moved next door to sleep in the room with the treadmill and bike, and let Natasha and Steve have the hospital room. 

The team was still reeling from the discovery of Stark Industries being tied in with the Poseidon.  It seemed Wanda and Loki initially guessed right.  Jasper Sitwell funneled money from Poseidon through the Lemurian Star, and paid it to Justin Hammer and Obadiah Stane.  In return, they supplied Poseidon with an insane amount of weaponry. 

Another piece to the larger puzzle was in place, and Tony…was left in his own denial, feeling ashamed and guilty, albeit unfounded because none of it was his fault.  But his name and his father were tied to the company forever.  And while they’d discovered that Howard Stark had _nothing_ directly to do with Stane and Hammer’s traitorous acts, it still hurt like a son of a bitch.

Denial or not, it left Tony and everyone else feeling all the more motivated to take the sons of bitches down. 

The team kept on their rotations, with Steve, Clint, and Natasha now starting to help out.  They’d tried to keep Natasha from the meetings at first, with Bruce and Dr. Strange telling her that she needed to recover, but three days after she’d woken up, she threw her water glass at them, telling them the best thing for her right now was to help her friends and family fight the people that put her here…and had inadvertently put all of them here. 

Loki laughed at the scene, loving that Natasha’s spirit shined through at times.  And Bruce relented, but only if she agreed to meet with him daily, checking in mentally with him.  She rolled her eyes, but said fine.  So, Natasha was part of the meetings again.  

Physically, Natasha proved to be even more tenacious.  It really shouldn’t have surprised anyone that Steve found her, four days after she’d woken up, after he’d gone off to talk with Tony privately again, which he’d been doing more and more lately.  No, it shouldn’t have surprised anyone that he found her in the workout room where Clint was sleeping, pushing herself to sheer exhaustion.  When Steve came in, she’d almost collapsed on the treadmill, “Natasha, what are you doing?  You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“No, Steve.  I’m working, so I don’t hurt myself.  I need to get stronger.”

There was another sign of her stubbornness as she gritted her teeth, walking on the treadmill, faster than she should have.  Steve pulled the plug on the equipment and she did almost fall, but he caught her, “Okay, Natasha.  I get it.  I need to get my leg back in working condition…and arms…so how about we work on this together?”

Natasha was pissed that she couldn’t stand on her own right then, but she smiled, thinking of how this reminded her of their early days at Quantico again, “What?  Morning runs before Melinda May kicks our ass on the mats…and then what?”

Steve attempted to grin, but he was worried, “We take it one day at a time, Natasha.”

And they did.  The mental and physical work, improving day by day wasn’t easy, but they could see progress at one week, two weeks, and all the way into three weeks.  She would get frustrated and cry and even yell at times from the physical pain, but it was working.  She was gaining strength and weight, and Dr. Strange and Bruce were amazed.  She had gained 10 pounds in three weeks, putting her up 15 in total since Steve had brought her to the FBI almost a month ago now. 

The physical and mental sides of things, were going well enough to be considered a step forward…even two steps forward at times.  There was a control to working on the mission.  There was a reliability in working out and regaining strength. 

But that left the emotional side.  The emotional wrecks that Steve and Natasha truly were.  Working on the task-force and working out didn’t include the messy, complex, and black hole of emotions, always lingering beneath the surface. 

Bruce made Natasha sit in an hour-long session each day.  They talked about anything and everything under the sun…except for what Bruce wanted her to talk about.  Her captivity.  Her loss.  Her torture.  Her pain.  Her feelings about Steve…But she refused, “Bruce, this is not going to help us find Poseidon.  It’s not going to help us find and take down Ivan and Oksana, so quit trying to get me to talk about it.  I don’t need this shit.”  Natasha had snapped at him several times over the three weeks, but the latest one, only proved his point more.  But he couldn’t force her to talk.

Steve…proved to be quite the avoider and deflector too.  Fury made Steve meet with Banner too, but it was the same result.  “Talking isn’t going to help right now, Bruce.”  Bruce sighed.  Three weeks he’d been on this merry go round of avoidance and denial with the two of them, “Steve, sometimes cracks beneath the surface cause the most damage.  Sometimes the pain on the inside is what needs to heal the most…Can I ask you, have you told Natasha that you forgive her?”

The question felt like a glass of ice water had been thrown at him, “I don’t need this shit.”  That was three weeks in.  That was yesterday, when Steve had held Natasha again as she woke up from another nightmare. 

Yeah, they didn’t need this shit alright. 

In short…emotionally, they were both a goddamn mess.  And no one could blame them. 

Each day, Steve and Natasha were actually holding themselves together, which was remarkable considering.  But they were both _really_ good at deflecting as denial kept hold on them and their emotions.  They were both really good at keeping busy because there was so much to keep busy with.  They were both _really_ good at taking their looming pain out on a treadmill or weights, or on a coffee pot that Steve tipped over three days ago because it was taking too long to brew, or on a newspaper that had been ripped in half four days ago by Natasha because she’d had a flashback while she was trying to eat a grapefruit. 

No, what Steve and Natasha had really lost, wasn’t talked about.  But it hung in the air like low-hanging fruit.  Everyone knew now.  How could they not?  Wanda, Loki, Bruce, Clint, Laura, Dr. Strange, and Bucky all knew after that first day when Natasha woke up.  So, within another day, everyone else knew.  And no one knew what to say or do.  Wanda and Loki and Clint provided Natasha with distractions at an hour or two from time to time, but she wouldn’t really talk to them about specifics either.  Bucky and Wanda and Sarah (via the phone) did the same for Steve, but it was no use. 

Steve and Natasha were both at an emotional wall, scared to break through and deal with what was waiting on the other side…It wasn’t just anger and pain, but it was dealing with _everything_ that had happened to them and between them over the last seven years.  It was a lot, and it overwhelmed and scared the hell of them.  So, they avoided it, soaking up the soothing ease of working together, working out together, and holding each other each night. 

That was the easier thing to do right now.  That was their denial.

And that was the thing with denial.  Denial was intoxicating with the ease and avoidance it offered. 

And at night, when they were truly alone with one another…when they could actually talk about anything real between them, they chose ease and comfort.  They chose to avoid, and soak up the relief that felt simple.

At times, those nights were filled with silent tears, fearing to fall asleep to see the nightmares that awaited them.  Steve’s were filled with ones from the past 18 months and Natasha’s were some twisted amalgamation, like the one she’d had yesterday morning.  And each time, Natasha would wake Steve when he was holding her too tight or tossing around in the narrow bed.  Or he would wake her when she started shivering or scratching herself. 

Bruce and Dr. Strange had determined that she probably started it in captivity almost as a coping skill gone awry.  It might have started as something as simple as running her hands over her stomach.  And with the sleep deprivation she’d suffered from, and the deep trauma, somewhere it had twisted and morphed into scratching at her skin.  She didn’t talk about it, so there was no way to know for sure. 

That first morning when Natasha had told Clint and Steve what the tattoo meant, and that first night that her and Steve had held each other, was the closest she’d come to truly opening up about everything. 

Her physical progress, working out with Steve, and her stubborn and sheer will could be considered three giant steps forward.  Her stitches were almost healed on her chest from surgery, her shoulder was recovering nicely from the dislocation, and a lot of her bruising had completely faded.  All of that, along with the 15 pounds of weight she’d gained, still left her recovering, but also left Bruce and Dr. Strange wildly impressed. 

“It’s not the physical stuff that’s the problem.  It never was with my sister.”  Clint had said to Laura one night when they were talking while Natasha was back on the treadmill. 

Laura smiled at him, “Clint, I know you and everyone else here love her and Steve.  But you can’t force it.   Yes, her and Steve are deep in denial right now.  They’re avoiding talking about a lot.  But maybe their bodies are holding it in, until they’re finally ready to talk to each other.  Grief isn’t predictable.  It’s not linear.  _They_ will open up when they’re finally ready to talk to _each other_.”  Clint looked at her with a wonder that he had been more and more over the weeks.

So, Steve and Natasha remained in denial like they’d fallen into quicksand.  They didn’t move, because deep down they were afraid to work through the pit that awaited them.  The pit that had words like forgiveness, and understanding, and acceptance.  Because if they stopped denying and dealt with the guilt and blame and real pain inside, then they would have to forgive.  They would have to forgive each other, and they would have to forgive themselves.  Forgiveness meant moving forward.  It meant moving into acceptance. 

Their closest friends and family talked about it with both of them separately, but they shut down each time.  Tony even tried with Steve a few days ago after Rogers asked him how he was holding up with Stark Industries being involved with Poseidon. 

“You know, Rogers, I thought I had family drama nailed down…With my father having two VP’s selling Stark Tech and weapons to a terrorist organization right under his nose and all.  But I think you and Red take the cake…For what it’s worth, I hope you know that at some point…you and her are going to have to plow through that protective wall you think you’ve built.  It’s not protecting you.  It’s preventing the two of you from really moving forward…You don’t need to talk to anyone of us about any of it.  But you need to forgive Red, Rogers.  And you need to forgive yourself.” 

That first night they’d held each other, when they began to break through was such a big step forward.  But the last three weeks had been crazy with exercising and meetings, and data discoveries and distractions…and it was easier to lean into those distractions than it was to work through the dark and murky waters of pain and loss that they needed to.  It was easier to…try and forget for a brief moment, before they had no choice but to move forward and forgive.

The lure of forgetting was the promise that denial offered, but just like the other stages, it was fool’s gold.  Pretending to forget allowed them to focus elsewhere for a moment.  It allowed them heal on the outside until they were finally ready to heal on the inside.

Loki had caught a moment alone with Natasha earlier in the week as well, “You know, Natasha…I told you this five years ago, when we were on that rooftop watching Wanda and Bucky’s wedding…what a sad pair we made.  Do you remember what I told you?”

“Loki, we need to get through these files, and then I need to go jog on the treadmill again.”

Loki laughed a little, “I’ll tell you then if you’re going to be that way…I told you that Rogers would always be there for you, and would take you back.  I told you that you need to forgive yourself…That’s even more true now.   You need to forgive Steve and yourself if the two of you are ever going to move forward.”

Natasha narrowed her eyes and scoffed, “There’s _nothing_ I need to forgive Steve for, Loki.” 

Loki smirked as he stood up, “Oh Natasha, your stubbornness has always been impressive…just like Rogers’, but it’s blinding the two of you.  You two are in this together…you have been since the _very_ beginning.  Forgiveness isn’t about blame that you don’t have for him.  It’s about the blame he has for himself.  It’s about dealing with the guilt that both of you are feeling.  It’s about moving forward…and it’s about accepting what fully happened to both of you.”

She stood up too, and walked off…but his words lingered with her more than Bruce’s or Clint’s or anyone else’s had. 

The trick with denial…It seemed easy up front, offering an escape.  But it wasn’t easy.  It wasn’t soothing.  It was deceptive with its allure, but it wasn’t a permanent reprieve.  Grief demanded payment, and denial was just a placeholder. 

And while Natasha and Steve may have fooled themselves as they denied and avoided, they were really only burying and repressing everything that they weren’t actually talking about.  Those submerged feelings deep in their hearts, compounding each day like a pressure cooker.  And there was only so much time until it their emotions finally exploded. 

Along with talking, what they weren’t getting ready to do was kiss.  Just like when Natasha had woken up yesterday, from her latest nightmare in Steve’s arms, he’d avoided _truly_ kissing her.  At night, he’d hold and soothe and caress her.  And he’d kiss her forehead and protect her in his arms, but Steve never let it go any further. 

And Natasha was frustrated.  So was Steve.  But they weren’t talking about _that_ either.  They hadn’t done what Bucky and Bruce and Sarah…and Clint and Wanda and Loki and Tony had told them to do.  They hadn’t talked about their child.  They hadn’t talked about Steve’s loss of her and her loss of him.  They hadn’t talked about both of their trauma over the last two…and really seven years.  They hadn’t talked about how they blamed themselves and hadn’t forgiven themselves.  They hadn’t really accepted the emotional black hole they found themselves in. 

One step forward, two steps back.  In short, they were still a goddamn mess.

* * *

**_Acceptance_** :

Acceptance…truly the lynchpin in grief.  Once a person actually accepted what they were grieving, it didn’t mean they wouldn’t go through other stages again.  On the contrary.  Grief was long-lasting and one never truly got over it…they got through it. 

Steve and Natasha were stuck in denial, and were completely refusing acceptance.

And the two of them had… _a lot of accepting_ to do.  They had to forgive each other.  They had to forgive themselves.  Loki had told Natasha _exactly_ that five years ago on a rooftop _and_ this week.  She didn’t listen to him then.  She wasn’t going to listen to anyone else now.  It was just…too hard at the moment. 

Instead, Natasha focused on her worries of why Steve wouldn’t kiss her beyond the tender grazes on her forehead or her cheek or her hair, or her hands.  They felt wonderful.  God, did they feel _wonderful_.  But she needed him.  And she knew he needed her too.  It was like she could hear his heart pounding as he held her tight at night. 

So, why wouldn’t Steve kiss her…like yesterday morning when she’d woken from her nightmare? 

Steve was currently helping Tony in the conference room as they tried to tracked Stane and Hammer’s current movements.  Which left Natasha alone, reeling from yet another day of Steve pulling away, and them both avoiding any sort of talking about what needed to truly be discussed.  It left her going even harder at her strength training as she was sweating and groaning through push-ups on her floor. 

Bucky came into her room, much to her surprise.  He was working late too and was getting something for Steve…and thought Natasha was in Clint’s room.  But she wasn’t. 

The awkwardness was felt immediately by both of them.  Of all the people on the task-force, Bucky was the one person she hadn’t spent any time alone with, since she’d been awake.  After he’d pulled Steve from the punching bag weeks ago, Bucky didn’t know what to say.  He felt awful, but he also needed to work on forgiving Natasha too.  Wanda encouraged him every night.  But he hadn’t been alone with her yet…probably on purpose. 

Immediately trying to leave the room, Natasha stopped him, “You don’t have to avoid me, Bucky.  I’m not going to hurt you.”

She meant it as a joke, falling back on her sarcasm as a defense mechanism.  The thing about two individuals with some tension and feelings built up, was that when talking did finally commence, it could be short-fused at first. 

“It’s not me that I’m worried about you hurting.”

Now she got defensive as she stood up, “What’s that supposed to mean, Bucky?”  Natasha _knew_ what he was getting at…but she didn’t back down when she thought she was being challenged. 

Bucky sighed, realizing _this_ was happening now, whether they liked it or not, “Natasha, it means that I’m sorry.  I really am.  I know that means absolutely nothing and sounds like complete bullshit…because I can’t even comprehend what you went through…or still are going through.”

Natasha scoffed and shook her head.  She wiped the sweat from her forehead and sat down on the couch, kicking a chair out to Bucky as she moved her hand, “You might as well talk, Bucky.  Because you’ve clearly got something to say…and god knows Steve won’t talk to me about any of this shit.”

Bucky shook his head and blew out a breath, “What the hell.”  He sat down and smirked at her, “You’re kind of the pot calling the kettle black there, Romanoff.  You won’t really talk to Steve about anything either.  And _neither_ of you will talk to Bruce…or any of us for that matter.  If you didn’t get that reference…it meant that you don’t have a leg to stand on with your complaint, Natasha.”

They’d always had this jabbing brother and sisterly vibe between them, and while they loved each other and were in each other’s lives and were close friends, they were never mushy around each other.  It just wasn’t their relationship.  She smirked at his words though.  “I feel like you’re just scratching the surface there, Bucky…If you didn’t get that reference, it means that if you have something to say, just say it.” 

Bucky kicked his legs up on the coffee table and leaned back, meeting her challenge, “Wanda told me to keep my mouth shut and play nice.”  Natasha let out a harsh laugh, “Since when was Wanda able to stop you from being an absolute idiot?  I’ve been gone a long time, but I can tell that hasn’t changed.”

Staring right back at her, he shook his head and chuckled, “You know what?  Fuck it, Natasha.  Everyone else can walk on eggshells around you, but I’m not the type.”

“Tell me something I don’t know, Bucky.” 

He folded his hands over his stomach, letting out a breath, “ _If_ you’d let me talk…I was going to say, we _all_ grieved for you.  We had a damn memorial for you for god’s sake.  But…that wasn’t the worst of it.  When Steve came back from that cabin, two years ago, I knew…I _fucking knew_ something was wrong.  But I was busy with Peter and wasn’t paying enough attention.  Natasha, his spiral almost killed him, and the downhill slide he was in started before he even thought you were dead.”

Natasha had stopped talking, and her sarcastic and defensive wall fell to pieces, just like that.  It left her wide-eyed with her mouth slightly open, soaking in every word as Bucky continued, “You want to know why Steve is keeping his walls up?  I think it’s the same reason you are too.  I know Bruce and everyone else is talking about forgiveness and the stages of grief and acceptance.  But honestly?  I think there’s a deeper issue with the two of you.”

Natasha was shocked at how deep Bucky’s words hit her, and she got defensive again.  She wasn’t ready for this.  She crossed her arms, raising her eyebrow at him, “Is Bucky Barnes actually giving me relationship advice?”

Bucky sat up now as he took his feet off the table and ran his hands over his face, “Jesus Christ, Natasha.  The two of you need _more_ relationship advice than anyone.  You may be meant for each other…You may be the loves of each other’s lives in such a co-dependent way where you can’t function or live without each other being near.  Fuck, your names might as well be Romeo and Juliet.  But with all your history, and everything you’re not saying to each other?  It’s plain as day to me.  The bigger issue with the two of you is trust.”

Natasha flinched, “What are you talking about, Bucky?” 

But Bucky cut her off, “I’ll be the dickhead here…I’ll say it and get yelled at by my wife and Mom, but you and Steve need to hear it.  Because we’re all in this together now, and _all of our lives_ are on the line, fighting Poseidon.  I walked in on you trying to kiss him the other night, and he pulled away.  You know why?”

There was no more defensiveness in her, she was more open and vulnerable than she had been since she first fell asleep in Steve’s arms, three weeks ago. 

Bucky went on, “Yeah, part of it is forgiveness.  And part of it is, the two of you needing to actually talk with each other and no one else.  But the biggest fucking reason, is that Steve is protecting his heart.  Maybe subconsciously…I don’t know.  But you haven’t proven to me that you’re not going to run on him again.  And I can tell you, if you haven’t proven it to me, there’s still part of Steve that’s worried you’ll break his heart again.”

Natasha sounded like she’d been punched, “Bucky, I had no way of getting ahold of him when I was held…”

“I’m not talking about that, Natasha.  I’m talking about the rest of it.  You ran on him seven years ago.  You were at Wanda’s and my wedding without any of us knowing.  He came home empty handed in Russia.  And then you ran on him at the cabin, telling him the one thing you two promised you never would.  Steve loves you.  He’s proven he’ll do anything to save you and protect you.  But _you_ have to prove to him…that he can trust you again.”

Natasha was shell-shocked at how much Bucky’s words cut through all of the bullshit and tension, and pierced her heart.  He was right.  She put her elbows on her knees and put her head into her hands.

“I love you, Romanoff.  I was counting on you being my sister-in-law one day…and an aunt to Peter.  I was devastated when Steve got those pictures.  We all were, and then I was lost trying to help my brother and best friend, who was more than just devastated.  He was empty without you.”

Natasha looked up at Bucky, hearing absolutely every word of his, “I can’t tell you how happy I was to find out that you were alive.  And I am so glad to have you back.  But I need to tell you this as a brother and a best friend to a wonderful man.  Don’t run out on my brother again.”

Natasha chewed on her lip as she wiped a tear away.  She took a breath, nodded her head…and then grinned at Bucky’s words.  They never had a mushy relationship.  They were never as close as Natasha and Wanda and Loki, or as Steve and Bucky and Sam were.  But they were part of this dysfunctional family, and in a weird way, they both held this joint ownership over Steve’s heart. 

Natasha wasn’t offended or hurt by anything Bucky had just said.  In fact, she was grateful.  She loved the man who was supposed to be her brother-in-law, and was relieved to finally have some of that tension gone between them. 

Bucky grinned right back at her as he stood up and pulled her into a quick hug, “Do me a favor, and just try to talk to Steve tonight.  You two don’t need to talk to anyone else…just each other.  You just need to start, and everything else will follow.  You’ll see.  And Natasha?  I’m really glad to see you getting stronger.  You’ll be kicking all of our asses again soon.”

Natasha wiped another tear away as she grinned at him walking out of the room, “Hey Bucky?”

He turned around as she said, “Thanks for not pulling your punches.  You know how much I hate that shit.”  Bucky nodded and left, leaving Natasha feeling better than she had when he came into the room. 

He was right.  Trust fed into this whole mess of acceptance, and Natasha knew deep down, she needed to prove to Steve that she wasn’t running anywhere.  She wasn’t _ever_ going to leave Steve again.  He’d pulled her back from the literal edges of death, and they would find a way to work through what they were both dealing with inside. 

They _had_ to. 

Because she needed him, and he needed her.  It was that simple, so they just needed to talk…And the trust and forgiveness and acceptance would follow. 

But timing still had it out for the team it seemed.  Because tonight, the same night Natasha was determined more than ever to break through the emotional barriers between her and Steve?  Well, something happened to change the course of the evening.  

Acceptance would have to wait.  Because other plans were in play.

* * *

“It’s all set if and when, Rogers.”  Tony and Steve were talking alone again.

“Good.  Hopefully we won’t need it, Tony…But I think it’s better to have a back-up plan.”

It was late, and everyone was tired…and Tony was more than sarcastic as he answered, “Oh…You mean it’s better to have a safety net against a global terrorist group, when their American leaders…or whatever the hell Ivan and Oksana are called within Poseidon…have us as their number one targets?”

“Tony…” Tony waved him off as Steve said, “Yeah.  that’s pretty much what I was trying to say.  Are you doing okay…with everything?”  

Tony groaned, “As good as any of us are right now.  Well, scratch that.  You and Red are clearly doing a lot worse than the rest of us.  I just…I don’t know how my father could’ve been so blind to those bastards working for Poseidon all these years.  Maybe if he spent more time paying attention at his company and less time chasing women…”

But he was cut off.  Fury burst into the room at the same time as Bucky, “Stark, Rogers.  Follow Barnes and me…Now.”

He was in Natasha’s room 15 seconds later with Clint on his heels, “Steve, what’s going on?”

Natasha was laying on the ground, working on some stretches that Laura had shown her earlier in the week and she sat up immediately as she looked at Steve’s face, “Steve?  What is it?”

* * *

Bruce.  Fury.  Bucky.  Loki.  Tony.  Clint.  Natasha.  Steve. 

Everyone at the FBI that evening came rushing into Natasha’s room as Steve went to protectively stand by her. 

It was 7:45 pm.  Bruce went to check Wanda’s lab before he left.  But…he didn’t leave.  He ran to Fury’s office instead, “We have a problem, Fury.  Jasper Sitwell and Secretary Ross are outside…They want an update with the progress on Loki’s network.”  That led to Fury finding Bucky, Steve, and Tony.  And now here they all stood.

“Son of a bitch.”  Tony, Bucky, and Steve’s voices blended together at the same time.  Steve clenched his jaw, giving Tony a knowing look about what they’d _just_ been having a private conversation about (and had been for the previous month). 

But fight or flight took over, and Steve pulled himself away from Natasha, “Clint…”

Barton stepped forward, “Don’t mention it, Rogers.  I’m here.  I’ll keep her safe…Sitwell’s a pussy, and he’s probably just seeing if he can sniff anything out.  If he had anything at all on Tasha, he wouldn’t be showing up with Ross.”

Steve gave a quick squeeze to Natasha’s hand, “I’ll be back soon…You’ll be here with Clint and everyone else.”  She didn’t have a chance to respond before he was telling Clint to lock the door…And then Fury, Tony, and Steve were off, leaving the rest of them in Natasha’s room, frantically trying to stay calm. 

Five minutes later after the three of them ran through a haphazard plan, Fury and Tony and Steve met the unexpected guests in the conference room, “Mr. Secretary, to what do we owe the pleasure?”

Ross stuffed a cigar in his front pocket, “Cut the crap, Fury.  It’s getting late, and I’m not here to chit chat.  Sitwell here, convinced me that maybe you need extra resources with Loki.  And he had the idea for us to stop by on our way to a political fundraiser across town to see how we could help.”

“How considerate of Jasper.”  Tony’s words made Fury give him a stare.  They were here because Sitwell convinced his boss to drop in. 

Tony and Steve kept looking at each other, trying to remain calm while Sitwell watched Rogers like a hawk, to an unnerving extent.  Two minutes passed.  Two heart stopping minutes, while Ross and Fury discussed progress on Loki’s criminal network being infiltrated and stopped. 

Sitwell finally broke the silence, “You okay, Rogers?  You look like you got a lot on your mind…”

Tony scoffed, “What the hell is this, Sitwell?  Daily confessional time at the local Church?  You didn’t come here to check in our emotional well-being.” 

It only egged Sitwell on.  And Ross wasn’t listening, as Fury tried to convey to him that everything was under control.  Sitwell narrowed his eyes a little at Steve, “I thought I saw you limping lightly on your way in here, Rogers…what’d you do?”  He was fishing.  Which meant he had absolutely nothing. 

That is the only thing that kept Steve calm in the moment as he answered, “You know, Sitwell…I think I remember hearing…that you didn’t even come close to passing at Quantico years ago.  You were a couple years ahead of our class, right?  Am I remembering this right, Tony?

Tony grinned, “Yeah, how could we forget.  Someone so high in the ranks at the State Department, not being able to pass and graduate from Quantico.”

Steve jumped right back in, “I’m glad to see starting off at the entry level turned out well for you.  If you _had_ finished training, and _had_ become an agent, you’d know when you apprehend criminals, sometimes you get hurt.”

Sitwell was more than annoyed, “Mind sharing who this most recent criminal was, Rogers?”

He wasn’t getting anywhere as Tony responded, “I bet Rogers does mind.  Don’t you, Rogers?”  Steve smirked, “You know what, Tony…I do mind.  Sitwell, I’m not going to disclose information on cases you’re not privy to.” 

They were both playing with fire, but it was what they had planned.  They could cover up their anxiety and distract him if they could piss him off by being dickheads. 

“Funny, Stark is usually the snarky one.  What’s got you so uptight tonight, Rogers?”

He wasn’t taking the bait.  Their other plan if they couldn’t get Sitwell to completely go off the rails on their own…was to turn on each other, distracting everyone else.

Tony raised his voice, “Jesus, Sitwell.  First you want a confessional, now you want to play Psychiatrist with us?  Maybe you haven’t been around Rogers in the last few years?  All he is, is uptight.  Fury, what the hell is this?”

Steve went right along with Tony, “Stark, you need to shut it.  It’s bad enough that Fury’s making us work together.”

And Tony jumped right back in, “Bad enough for who?  You, Rogers?  Huh…That’s funny.  Because I’m pretty sure that you’re the one who’s been incapable of doing anything but brooding around…Jesus, I swear you are in a worse mood every time I see you…Have you even gotten laid since Romanoff left you all those years ago?”

Hopefully Tony and Steve’s fighting would make Ross wanna get the hell out of there.  Steve didn’t have to fake his angry expression as his jaw twitched, “You wanna say that again, Stark?”

“Stark.  Rogers.  Quiet.”

Fury’s voice caused him and Ross to pause as Tony continued, “Fury, what is this?  I don’t answer to Sitwell or Ross.  I’m CIA, and I’m on this task-force because my boss told me to be here.  Sitwell, you want information from me?  Well, you can’t have it.”

Steve added, “Fury, as much as it pains me to admit it…Tony’s right.  I mean, isn’t the point of the task-force to actually complete tasks…not just sit around and stare at guys who couldn’t make it through Quantico?” 

The job was done.  Sitwell was still suspicious as hell, but Ross was annoyed and late…and didn’t want to be here in the first place.  Fury turned back to Ross, guiding him to the door, “Secretary Ross, you know you’re always welcome here.  And I need to apparently have a talk with Rogers and Stark about acting appropriately around you.  But I will say, I thought we agreed the Directors of each organization would receive updates from us, and then report it up to you?”

Ross, who could definitely be an asshole, was also a very busy man.  And he’d forgotten about being kept in the loop from the Directors of the CIA, FBI, Homeland, and NSA.  And now, he was more than annoyed at Sitwell, “Yes, Nick.  My apologies.  I’ll have to have a conversation with my Deputy Secretary about keeping his mind focused on State Department functions and off of joint task-force matters that don’t concern him.”

Sitwell’s eye twitched.  He was livid.  His plan had failed, and he’d come out with nothing and a tongue lashing. 

Ross added on their way out the door, “And Stark?  You’re as much of an arrogant prick as I remember.”  Tony scoffed as they were left alone again.  They sat in silence until Bruce came in five minutes later, and gave them the all clear.

Fury smirked, “You boys always did love pretending to be dicks to one another.  Steve…Tony, good job thinking on the fly.  That won’t be the last we’ve heard from Sitwell, but we’ve done a good job for now.”

Tony put his hand on Steve’s shoulders, “Hey, Steve…”  But Steve shook him off, “Tony, don’t worry about it.  I know that you were playing it up.  Good job and good thinking.  We had to get Ross’s attention.”  Tony grinned, “Well, Jesus.  You really are running on empty if you’re dishing out complements to me.  What’s wrong, Steve?” 

Steve’s stress was more than noticeable on his face, “I don’t know, Tony.  I have this awful feeling that this wasn’t the end of it.  I think we need to gather everyone in the conference room down the hall, and try to figure out what Sitwell is up to.”

Natasha ran into Steve’s arms when he got back to her room.  He didn’t let himself feel relieved in the slightest because his adrenaline was pumping and he was on edge, which only made her more anxious, “Come with me, Natasha.  We’re all meeting in the conference room.”   

Sam, Thor, Maria, Rhodey, and Wanda were on the phone, conferencing in as everyone else sat around the table. 

“Ross isn’t after us.  He’s not with Poseidon.  That was clear.  But Sitwell…” Fury had started speaking before Steve took over, “Sitwell knows more than what he let on.  He was fishing, and didn’t get anything from us…But I don’t know.  He’s a fucking rat seeing what he could sniff out.”

Natasha’s hand was gripping her thigh as Tony added, “We don’t know that he _actually_ knows anything.  He seemed pretty clueless and only focused on why Steve was limping.”

Fury’s voice rang over everyone’s heads, “Rogers may be right…Sitwell was playing dumb, and using your knowledge of him not graduating from Quantico to his advantage.”  Tony was about to argue but Steve added, “Yeah, he was bad at anything with a physical skill set, but he was never dumb.  He’s a lot smarter than how he just acted.”

Natasha moved her hand over to Steve’s thigh and squeezed tight, as she spoke softly to him, “He’s the canary in the coal mine, Steve.” 

Clint heard her as his mind jumped to the worst possible conclusion, “Fuck.” 

Now everyone turned to Barton and Romanoff, “Do you guys know something about Sitwell?”  Fury asked.    

They shook their heads as Natasha spoke again, this time louder, with more concern in her voice, “No.  You know everything we know.  The only thing I knew about him was what I did when I left the FBI…that he was slick and duplicitous as he rose in the ranks of the State Department.  But Clint and I know Ivan and Oksana.  And Steve?  If you’re saying, you thought he knew something…then they sent him.”

A sense of dread filled the room as Steve reached down to grab her hand as Clint said, “And if they sent him…that only means one thing.”  Natasha’s eyes started to fill with panic as she looked at Steve, “It means they’re sending reinforcements.”

Fury looked to the leader of this task-force…he looked to Steve.  Steve couldn’t think about the fear in Natasha’s eyes, or he’d lose it.  Fight or flight.  He and Tony stood up immediately, nodding at each other, “Nick.  This is it.  This is what Tony and I have been planning for.  We gotta move… _now_.”

Fury trusted Steve when it came to his instinct and keeping the team safe.  And his own stomach was telling him the same thing.  They needed to move, “Alright, Rogers.  Tony, is plan B ready?”

“Yes,” Tony and Steve said simultaneously.

Just as quick as Tony was ready to say something else, the power flickered off.  Thanks to Wanda and Loki’s precautions, the hallway and wing they were in were on back-up generators, just like Wanda’s lab.  Bruce took a look at his laptop, “Shit.  Loki…how far out are those security checks we set up from the front entrance of the building?”

“About a half mile…what do you see, Banner?”

Bruce saw 10 Black SUV’s barreling down the road, leading straight to the FBI building.  _This was it._   This was what Steve and Tony had been privately talking about for the last month as they planned and prepared for the worst.  As they planned and prepared for _this_. 

The next minute passed so quickly as orders were yelled.  Steve went first, “Bucky.  Give Wanda the coordinates I told you about.  Tell her to get Mom and Peter and go there, now.  They gotta get out of my apartment… _Now_.”

Tony was talking next, “Bruce.  Loki.  You have three minutes.  Torch Wanda’s lab, and take the back-up drives and files from this room.”

Loki and Bruce nodded and ran as Steve was yelling on the conference phone again, “Thor, Maria, Rhodey, Sam…get to the location I told you about, bring all the weaponry you have.  We’ll all meet there.  Do not let yourself be followed.”

“You got it, Cap,” rang through the speaker from Sam and Rhodey as they all hung up.  Fury ran off to grab a few items from his office as Clint ran back to his room to grab his go bag.  Apparently, everyone had been clued into this plan except for Natasha.  She was reeling as the room began to spin, and she started to feel nauseous.

“Steve?”

They didn’t have time, but he had to tell her, “Nat, you listen to me.  I didn’t tell you because you needed to recover.  We gotta get out of here, but I need to stay back and help Tony and Bucky clear evidence out of here and get everything we need.  Clint is going to take you to the place that Tony has been preparing over the last month.  A safehouse of sorts.”

Fear began to overwhelm her as she shook her head and grabbed his arms, “No.  I’m not fucking leaving you.  Not again.  I haven’t told you…I can’t leave you again, Steve.”

Steve brought her into a quick hug as he kissed her forehead and then looked at her now glassy eyes, “There’s not time for this, Natasha.  _Please_ , you have to trust me with this… _Please trust me._ Tony has a secure location.  We’re going to clear this place and get everything out of here we need, and we’ll meet up with you there later.  You’re not leaving me.  You’re staying safe, do you hear me?  And you’re going to help everyone else secure and lockdown the safehouse.”

“Tasha, we gotta move now.”  Clint had a go bag for her and Loki was going with them too.  The three people who the FBI was trying to keep hidden from Poseidon at all costs – Natasha, Clint, and the FBI criminal who Sitwell would surely try and draw information from, if he got his hands on him.  They needed to get out of there… _now_.

She couldn’t stop the tears from coming down her face.  Natasha wanted to fight and stay and argue, but she closed her eyes and thought of Bucky’s words.  She needed to trust Steve.  And she was trying to prove to him that he could trust her with all of his heart again. 

To hell with waiting for forgiveness and acceptance and every other fucking thing they still needed to trudge through.  Natasha fought through her tears and reached up to Steve as she kissed him passionately and hard on the lips. 

And time stilled.  Just for them.  Just for those 10 seconds.  And Steve didn’t fight it this time.  He fell into the warmth and familiarity of _them,_ as their lips met, and he kissed her back.  Steve drew her into another embrace as he whispered, “I promise, I’ll see you soon, Nat.  But you gotta stay where Clint takes you.  Wanda and everyone else will be there.  We will meet up later…I love you, Nat.”

She was going to collapse if she stayed in his arms, so she fell into the strength of his heart and words, and trusted him and let it strengthen her.  She kissed him one more time quickly on the lips, “I love you to, Steve.” 

And then, she did what she’d been doing her whole life.  She _ran_. 

Natasha and Clint and Loki ran with Fury and Bruce.  It was still hard and painful for her, but she didn’t care as her legs found their place, with one right in front of the other.  She ran through the hallway, down the back stairwell, and out into the back street of the building where a bullet-proof SUV was waiting for them.  “Everyone in now,” Fury was in the driver’s seat as he yelled at them.  And Natasha ran to the opposite side, breathless as fear and panic threatened to overtake her again. 

Yes, Natasha was running.  _Again_.  But this time, for the first time, she wasn’t running from him.  She was running for Steve.  She was running to meet up with him later.  And she was running…because she trusted him with all of her heart and was proving that he could trust her again. 

Natasha was running to Tony’s safehouse.  And she was going to be there for Steve.  She could only hope that he got there safely like he promised.  She pushed the panic down as she soaked in his words of love and comfort and protection as Fury sped off. 

That left Tony, Bucky, and Steve. 

It left them working furiously to trash and burn everything they could in the hidden hallway, and in the bullpen, and offices and conference room.  In the interrogation rooms, and in Wanda’s lab.  It left them frantic and frenzied, trying to get everything clean of there every being any traces of Natasha and Clint for Poseidon to find. 

And while they worked as quickly as they could, 10 black SUV’s pulled up to the building.  10 SUV’s filled with men all dressed in black tactical gear that poured out of each one.

Steve and Natasha may have been working towards trust in this frantic hour.  But Acceptance…the lynchpin of grief.  A true exchange of trust and love and forgiveness. 

Yes…Acceptance would have to wait.  It would have to wait, because Poseidon was here. 

 

* * *

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’re entering into the last phase of the story here. I would guess we’re at about 7 - 10 chapters left (knowing my writing, that could be pushed a cple more – but we’ll see!)
> 
> This chapter was a little lengthier, even for me. But I kind of look at it like you’re really getting 3 or 4 chapters within each…’update.’ 
> 
> Grief is a slog…it’s messy…it’s complicated and unpredictable…and it affects you and hits you in ways you can and can’t plan for. It’s never ending and comes whether you want it to or not. 
> 
> Natasha and Steve by no means are done with their grieving – not by a long shot – but they’ve taken some important steps forward, just not…the most important one yet. 
> 
> Thank you for supporting, commenting, and encouraging. Your words are wonderful and the love I receive for this story…just means everything. I love these characters so much and am more deeply invested in this story than I think I can even put into words. 
> 
> Come follow me on Tumblr @eightieskat to chat about the story, anything Marvel, or anything in general! 
> 
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> Cheers!~~ Kat


	22. Safehouse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got this out sooner than intended – I hope you all don’t mind ;) Some smut in this chapter. And there’s a scene that I think you’ve all probably been waiting for, for a very long time in this one.
> 
> Enjoy the chapter and image board below!

Memories & Reality

I do not own any of this or any part of Marvel or the MCU

Chapter 22 – Safehouse

* * *

**_12 Years Ago -_ **

_It was three weeks into the Mole Mission._

_And Natasha found herself, currently hiding behind an electrical box at night, dressed all in black.  And chasing after Tony Stark._

_Tony turned around to see if Natasha was behind him.  She could tell he was breathing heavily…So was she from their race through the woods over the last 20 minutes.  He picked the lock to a side door and entered the building.  It didn’t leave her much time, but Natasha moved quickly, closing the remaining 15 feet between her and the entrance.  Her fingers were almost pinched in the metal latch, but she was able to slip inside without any harm as the door closed._

_The administration building cleared out over two hours ago since it was now after 7:00 pm._

_Natasha didn’t have to think too hard about what Stark was doing in here.  He, like Natasha and the others in their group, had let their competitive nature completely take over during the last several weeks in trying to find the mole.  The test was concluding tomorrow, and they were both trying to find the last pieces of the puzzle on order to prove who the culprit was among the 11 friends._

_Using the advantage of her nimble body, Natasha climbed up on a bookshelf in the dark hallway.  She pushed on the ceiling tile above her and climbed inside the space.  Not wanting to cause any damage to the roof, she quickly moved to the steel support beam toward the middle._

_She tried to calm her breathing and kept crawling along the beam until she heard Stark say, “Where the hell would those files be?”_

_Tony and Natasha had surged ahead with this mission toward the end of this week.  And in all honesty, the mission was no longer a mission.  It was a race.  A race to see…who was the best in the areas of espionage, intelligence gathering, and manipulating friends and team members into sharing information._

_Most of the trainees all across Quantico had crossed line after line during the course of the test.  And Tony and Natasha were no exception._

_And Natasha knew exactly what Tony was doing here in the administration building tonight.  They were looking for physical files on this mission.  They had figured it out a couple days ago when they were arguing in the hallway.  They happened to be in the right place at the right time because May and Coulson were talking around the corner about a comprehensive list of the class’s intel sheets.  Fury had the lists and apparently, they showed who the mole was within each group.  Fury had hidden them somewhere on campus._

_It was the pot of gold at the end of this three-week rainbow._

_So, Natasha knew exactly what Stark was after tonight.  She was after the same exact thing for the last two days.  And right now, Natasha realized Tony didn’t know where they were in this building._

_‘I still have a chance,’ she thought to herself.  A smirk formed on her face as she recalled a memory from about a month ago, before this exercise, or even the driving test for that matter, had begun._

_Steve wasn’t feeling the best, so he stayed back to rest while Natasha went for an evening jog on her own.  That night was when she found herself by the same exact building she was inside the ceiling of right now._

_Natasha hadn’t set out a month ago with the goal of finding anything on her run.  But she was naturally observant, and when she paused in the cool evening air, seeing Fury enter the administration building, her interest was officially tapped.  Fury was all by himself, it was dark out, and he didn’t turn any lights on when he went inside.  Her curious nature caused her to draw near the building, “What are you doing in the dark, Fury?”_

_It was like the night answered her as she paused, when Fury used a flashlight inside.  From a distance, she watched his movements unfold as the small scope of white light emerged down the hallway through each window…until it didn’t anymore.  Fury reached the far end of the first floor, and Natasha saw the light disappear.  It was completely black inside the building for five minutes, and then the flashlight was back on again as Fury exited through the nearest door.  She had shrugged the entire scene off, thinking Fury was just being strange and a loner as she jogged back to her room._

_But now, as she crawled along the ceiling, Natasha’s smirk turned to a grin as she guessed what Fury was possibly up to that evening.  He was already preparing for the Mole Mission.  He **always** worked three steps ahead of everyone, and he knew trainees would be following him once the test started.  So, he probably hid the files before it even began.  _

_Yes, it was a leap…a guess…But she was going to make her next move on that guess.  Stark mumbled as he walked in the opposite direction.  She rolled back over and carefully dropped down from the ceiling, and took off in the direction from her memory._

_A minute later, Natasha quietly stood in the corner of the building where she’d last seen Fury with his flashlight.  Using a bobby pin from her hair, she picked the lock at the door, opened it up, and silently slipped inside the room._

_Natasha looked around after she drew her flashlight from the backside of her running pants.  There were no windows in the room, but if she kept her light on, Stark might find her.  She found an old sheet on a storage shelf and tucked it under the door, preventing light from seeping out.  Next, she moved a chair underneath the doorknob, so if Stark managed to pick the lock too, she’d have enough time to hide._

_Looking around the room, Natasha saw hundreds of black boxes on metal shelving.  They flashed with green and blue lights, giving off a mild glow to the space.  The boxes held data to all the information that the FBI had at Quantico._

_“The server room,” Natasha whispered out loud._

_The thrill of what she was doing caused another surge of adrenaline to pump through her.  The feeling was very akin to her childhood, her adolescent years, and her late teenage years.  She wouldn’t admit it, but part of her felt at home, rummaging through a dark building, alone at night, and trying to confiscate something that was not meant to be found._

_Her conscience…and Steve’s voice lingered in her head, but she was three weeks into this, “To hell with the rules…Sometimes, they’re made to be broken.”  She scanned the room for a couple of minutes until noticing a difference in the colored lights on one of the shelves._

_There in the middle of the shelf, towards the back, was an object that definitely wasn’t electronic.  She moved the black server boxes out of the way, being careful not to push any wires out of place.  Reaching her narrow arms through the space, Natasha found a banded group of files about three inches thick._

_She grabbed the files and looked through them all.  Jackpot…her pot of gold._

_The entire class’s intel sheets from the exercise were right there.  Natasha didn’t need to take all of them, so she pulled a crate over and sat on it, holding them in her lap.  She thumbed through the stack until she found their group’s sheets.  Reaching behind her, Natasha pulled around her small pouch on her waist and pulled out a camera.  She took pictures of each of her friend’s pages and smiled as she saw who the mole was._

_Natasha silently commended the person for doing a great job in covering their tracks._

_A couple minutes later, she wrapped the files back together, put them back, and moved the black boxes into their original place, hiding the fact she was ever there._

_Natasha was already bending the rules, and she’d found what she’d came for.  So…she could have left the server room.  She didn’t **need** anything else inside it.  But that wasn’t Natasha.  Her curiosity was on high alert, and since she was already in the room, and over that line…she thought, ‘I can stay a little longer.’  _

_That was the problem with crossing the line at any given chance.  When did it ever stop?_

_The data boxes each had a blank label on the outside.  Natasha moved her fingers over one of the labels and realized it was actually a cover.  You could flip open a small tab on each box to reveal the actual labelling underneath.  The one she was looking at had a long ID code that read, ‘9832VPNCL06FBI435.’_

_Natasha had learned more than enough about coding methods and patterns, both at Quantico and in her Russian training.  After a minute of flipping more tabs up, she detected a pattern.  The first and last part of the code didn’t mean anything.  The pattern was in the middle, ‘CL06FBI.’   After looking at several other boxes, she realized it was showing, ‘Class of ’06,’ ‘Class of ’05,’ ‘Class of ’04,’ etc.  It was data collected on each class at Quantico.  The boxes she was currently looking at, continued all the way down and onto the next metal case.  The numbers descended in order all the way down to ‘Class of ’75: Archived.’_

_Other shelves were filled with other information, backed up on more black boxes.  Natasha worked at deciphering those labels too.  She found one that said, ‘FBI cold case files,’ ‘FBI Mission Exercises,’ ‘Quantico Personnel Files,’ and various other topics._

_This could no longer be labeled as curiosity.  Natasha felt like she was on a mission from before…from before Quantico.  From before the Navy.  She wasn’t just peeking anymore.  She was fully immersed.  And she couldn’t stop now if she wanted to.  But that was the bigger problem.  She **didn’t** want to.  Pretty soon 10 minutes had passed and every label had been read.  _

_100’s of servers, hidden away at Quantico, and Natasha had seen every single one._

_One of them in particular stood out when she saw writing in Russian in the middle of the code.  It was deciphered as, ‘_ _Детский солдат_ _,’ meaning ‘Child Soldiers.’_

_There was an itch in her head that traveled all the way down to her fingertips.  Natasha **knew** she had what she came for and that she should leave.  She really did.  But Natasha didn’t grow up in a household with ‘should,’ as an option.  She didn’t grow up with normal social mores and limitations. _

_Steve’s voice, and all of her friends’ voices really, were asking her what she was doing, inside her head.  But the itch was powerful…and she just couldn’t help herself.  It was like those Russian words were calling to her and pulling her in like a tractor beam.  The fact that she was still in the room, was really the answer in itself._

_Natasha made the final decision…she **had** to know what that drive on child soldiers held.  Her pouch had several other items she needed over the last couple of weeks.  A pocket knife.  A miniature telescope.  And an encrypted flash drive. _

_Natasha ran her thumb over the flash drive twice, only hesitating for a second before she plugged it into the server box.  The decision had already been made…she scratched the itch.  Telling her guilty conscience to shut up, Natasha said, “I’m just making sure the child soldiers file doesn’t have anything on me.”_

_The drive soon switched from red to green, indicating the information on the server had been copied.  Then she looked at the box next to the Russian label, and read the code as, ‘Quantico Operations and Schematics.’  Her conscience had shut up as Natasha fully dove into the deep end.  What’s one more server to be copied, since she’d already done it once?_

_Natasha didn’t hesitate as she plugged the drive into that server box too.  She waited a full minute for the files to copy onto her drive, indicating it was much larger than the other one.  While she waited, her brain was in overdrive._

_‘Knowing any plans of the grounds might help me with this exercise,’ she thought._

_Yeah, right._

_Logic had exited her brain during the last week and a half, and she was in a grey zone she couldn’t escape right now.  Never mind that the mission was ending tomorrow.  Never mind she knew she’d never need this information._

_But Natasha had already crossed that line of taking information from the room.  So, what was one more file? **That** was the problem.  Just like lying, once you start, it’s really easy to continue.  _

_‘What are you doing, Romanoff? It’s bad enough you snuck in here to take pictures of the intel sheets.  But now you’re copying information that doesn’t have anything to do with the test?’_

_She rolled her eyes at the Jiminy Cricket (that might as well have been named Steve, because that’s what the voice sounded like) inside of her as the battle of morals continued as she spoke out loud, “Shut up.  You’re not the same as everyone else, and that’s what makes you such a great trainee.  Rules are made to be broken.”_

_‘What is Steve going to think when he finds this out?’ Okay, that voice didn’t sound like Steve’s.  It was hers, trying to pull her back from this nosedive.  She couldn’t tell that voice to shut up so easily._

_But her brain snapped out of her internal war of conscience as she heard footsteps approaching from the outside.  The light switched to green on the drive, and she wrapped it back into the pocket of her small pouch.  She flipped the flashlight off and grabbed the sheet from under the door to return it to the shelf it was on._

_Moving to the side of the door, she followed the faint shadows of Stark’s feet outside of it.  He started to pick the lock, but he wasn’t able to open the door.  Natasha had blocked it with the chair.  She listened to him curse to himself before he ran off because he heard security guards coming._

_Thinking quickly, she moved the chair out from the doorknob and pulled herself up to the ceiling panels once more.  She moved over to the steel beam in the middle to support her weight again, put the panel back in place, and crawled along until she reached the other side of the door.  She kept crawling for another 100 feet before she dropped back down to a spot where there was another book case in the hallway._

_Hearing the guards in the server room question whether someone had been in there or not, she ran.  Natasha ran from the hallway, out the door of the building, and back to her room.  Consequences be damned, she was on a high from the adrenaline, and she felt like she had just stolen the crown jewels._

* * *

_Natasha’s face was beet red from running.  Her pulse had started to return to a normal rate, but the sweat was coming down from her brow, her back, and her arms._

_When she entered her room, Steve was sitting on her bed and waiting for her.  He was more than upset._

_Natasha had literally run out on Steve at dinner time when she saw Stark sneak out across the cafeteria.  Steve had tried everything over the last week, specifically.  He tried being patient, rational, and understanding, but her and Stark had lost sight.  They were consumed by competitiveness and the need to win._

_Steve raised his voice to her, “Natasha, I can’t believe you.  This is ridiculous.  You have been like an obsessed maniac the last week about this test.”  Natasha dug her heels in initially, “Steve, just because you decided that you were going to be a boy scout with the rules, doesn’t mean you can be pissed at me.  Are you really upset because I’m going to win?”_

_Steve shook his head, “You think I’m pissed because I’m not going to win?  I think you need to go dunk your head in a bucket of ice…You know, your partner in crime was just here 15 minutes ago looking for you.  Tony looked like he was even more pissed off at you than me.”_

_Natasha was looking down at the ground, knowing she didn’t have a leg to stand on as Steve finished, “Why don’t you cut the crap and tell me what happened tonight?”_

* * *

_Right after Fury’s announcement of what the Mole Mission was, the 11 friends tried to all work together.  Try was a pretty loose term because their effort lasted about five minutes.  That was because some of the more dominant, alpha personalities took over in the group right away, naturally bullying some of the more passive and innocent group members into giving them their intel outright._

_Rhodey and Thor started pestering Wanda non-stop, and Maria and Sam started targeting Loki and Banner.  “Come on, Bruce.  You know you don’t even want to participate in this.  So, just give me your information, and then you can sit back over the next three weeks.  It’ll be great for you,” Maria had joked._

_They all acted like they were joking, but Wanda, Loki, and Banner didn’t find any humor in it._

_Bucky and Steve quickly got in the middle of their aggravating behavior and brought it to a stop.  “Come on everyone.  I think we can try to all figure out a better plan than just throwing people into the middle of a circle and badgering them to death.”_

_Rhodey rolled his eyes, “Oh great, Cap’s here to lay out the rules, guys.”_

_The ‘joking’ stopped for the evening, but it didn’t matter.  The initial lines had been drawn.  Loki, Banner, and Wanda had naturally been deemed ‘weaker’ or ‘assumed losers’ of the group.  They were the first people to be targeted, and they were actually a little hurt._

_What the three of them also did, was quickly form an alliance._

_Loki and Wanda made a deathly pair, that weren’t about to be trifled with as they started trying to hack into everyone’s phones, emails, and computers the next day.  Banner notched up his observational skills and started eavesdropping as much as he could on the group’s conversations._

_If the 11 of them were asked when the competitiveness kicked into high gear, they would probably blame the initial targeting or the alliance being formed.  But deep down, everyone knew that it started as soon as Fury said, “Go.”_

_When this mission was done, there would only be three weeks left…And then, the real world awaited.  They all wanted to prove they could win here, calming their fears about succeeding in that very real and looming world.  Anxiety started rearing its ugly head during the driving test, and it had only ramped up with each passing day.  Placements hadn’t been announced yet, so locations of where everyone would be working were still up in the air._

_Joking became pestering.  Pestering became badgering.  Badgering caused hacking and eavesdropping.  Sideward glances became attempted stealing, and honesty morphed into deception and lies.  It was a real downward spiral._

_Surprisingly, Natasha had **not** been one of the original ones to cross any lines.  _

_By the time the exercise had reached the end of week one, the only people still talking civilly were Natasha and Steve, and Stark and Bucky.  In truth, the four of them were probably the actual strongest and natural alphas of the group.  But Rhodey, Maria, Thor, and Sam were hungry.  They had been in the middle to top of the pack, during most of the tests, and they wanted to shine in these last exercises, hopefully ensuring their placement after Quantico._

_What Steve and Natasha noticed that first week, was that the downturn in behavior wasn’t just occurring in their group of friends.  The behavior was similar across all the groups at Quantico as tension rose amongst friends._

_“Did you see how the quietest people in each group were targeted over the last couple of days, Natasha?”  Steve had asked her that at the end of the first week.  Natasha was staring out her window curled up against the wall on her bed as Steve came up behind her to hold her in his arms.  “Hmm?”_

_Steve brushed his nose along the back of her neck, “Did you hear anything I just said, Nat?”  Natasha grinned as she felt his lips touch her skin, “Yeah.  I heard you, Soldier.  Something, something…quiet people being picked on…I guess it shouldn’t surprise me.  You know, it’s kind of the natural order of things.  Survival of the fittest and all.”_

_She reached down to squeeze his hands as she sank back into his arms, now fully listening to him, “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.  But I just mean that you and I should really try to lead the group through this…something tells me this test is about a lot more than just finding out who the stupid mole is in each group.”_

_Natasha grinned, now running her hands along his thighs as his legs encircled her too, “Speaking of stupid moles…you’re not it, are you?”  Steve groaned, “Nat.  Come on.  I told you…we really need to be legit about this.”  She huffed out a breath, “You’re right.  I was only kidding.”_

_Steve pinched her side as she yelped before he started tickling her into submission.  She rolled over on her bed, laughing and retreating from him, and pleading with him to stop.  “Admit you weren’t really kidding, Nat.”_

_He’d been holding her, pinned to the bed between his legs for over 30 seconds, as he kissed and nipped, and pinched and tickled until she finally gave, “Okay fine…but you can’t blame me for asking.  I didn’t really think you’d tell me, Steve.  But I had to try…you know me.”_

_Steve looked down at her as he stopped his playful movements, “Yeah, I do know you, Nat.”_

_And the familiar pull took over as the mood shifted from lighthearted to heated.  They found themselves in the midst of another perfect night in her twin bed.  Steve and Natasha fell into the ease of each other’s embraces, and into the escape from the world outside her window.  Their own little safehouse at Quantico.  Passion and lovemaking were shared and not a lick of information about the mission was exchanged._

_Steve and Natasha were **absolutely** convinced they were ahead of this mission and mentally above, where most everyone else was at.  Natasha agreed with Steve during the first week after seeing how quickly everyone else was digging their heels in and unraveling.  Her and him, along with Tony and Bucky, should try to keep everyone in check.  They seemed to be the only ones thinking clearly right now.  _

_If Natasha had it her way, she’d sit back and watch everyone else tear each other apart, and pick up the pieces at the end.  That was the natural comfort of the spy inside of her.  This wasn’t a physical skills test.  This was mental.  And deep down, Natasha knew she had a **huge** advantage over everyone. _

_But she’d also changed and grown and opened up…in large part because of her relationship with the same man, who was encouraging her, to help him lead their friends through this.  And in other parts, because of her friendships she had formed here within their group._

_Natasha gave into her better angels, and agreed to talk to Bucky and Tony with Steve the next morning to see what they could do to help._

_Bucky tried to talk to Wanda.  Tony tried to talk to Rhodey.  Natasha tried to talk to Loki.  And Steve tried to talk to Sam.  There was clearly a point to this exercise to see which agents would push the envelope.  Which trainees would immediately bend the rules?  And how far would they bend those rules?  How far was someone willing to go to meet an objective?_

_Four attempts at appealing to friends.  Four failures…leaving the four of them trying to remain above board on this test, even if the others weren’t.  And by the end of the first week, they **had** stuck together.  _

_Bucky kind of just stopped talking about the exercise all together at night with Wanda.  And she promised not to hack or try to focus the efforts of her ‘alliance’ on him.  It worked for the most part…for the first week anyway, and the rest of their friends’ behavior hadn’t gone too far…yet._

_But those seams were stretching to maximum capacity…in every group at Quantico.  There was another couple in a completely different group in the class, that had stormed out of the lunch room, screaming at each other by the end of week one._

_The stress of the future, and in particular the design of this test, had people’s pressure points being pushed.  Everyone had a secret in this mission.  Everyone was trying to find out the other’s secret.  That type of setting could breed deception, lies, and manipulative behavior.  And it all was starting to wear on even the closest of people, just like the couple that stormed out of the lunchroom in a completely different group._

_Week one was done.  Wanda, Loki, and Bruce hadn’t been successful at finding anyone’s information pertaining to the mission, but they had succeeded in annoying **everyone**.  Tony yelled at Wanda because she’d accidentally sent a virus to his personal email when she was trying to hack into it.  And then Bucky yelled at Tony for yelling at Wanda.  Which caused Tony to storm off._

_Yes, the seams started to show, and the first crack formed in the little leadership tryst after Tony and Bucky’s argument, which left Bucky ripe for the picking._

_By the start of the second week, Wanda had officially gotten to Bucky.  Maybe it was because she decided to start withholding sex from him until he agreed to help her.  Or maybe it was because she just gave him an innocent pout, enough times that he finally caved.  Or maybe…she had prodded him enough, provoking him with questions like, “James are you ever going to prove to me that you can beat Steve in something?  For Once?”  The last one was probably the kicker._

_At any rate, the start of week two found Bucky telling Tony to fuck off when he wouldn’t stop complaining about Wanda and his spammed email.  Steve had tried to calm Bucky down, but he went to find his girlfriend, and agreed to help her, Loki and Bruce._

_And everyone else’s scheming had really ramped up.  Thor snuck into Loki’s room, trying to steal his file one night in week two, and Loki hit him with a stun gun as he was walking out the door.  Thor fell into the hallway, and Loki grabbed his packet back and walked off with a grin._

_Boundaries were pushed farther, as Maria even made out with Bruce one night, as she snuck his packet from his bag.  Bruce grinned as she walked of and realized the packet had blank pages in it.  She threw it in the trash and stormed off._

_Lie after lie was being told, and Steve started to see the remaining trio start to buckle.  At the beginning of week two, Rhodey started to get to Tony, with his comments about how he was a fool in thinking that Rogers and Romanoff weren’t working against him._

_Tony started to get paranoid as Natasha and Steve went off on their nightly runs, on their morning work outs…and with all the other alone time they spent with each other in between.  So, it took only two days of Rhodey’s pestering for Tony to finally crack._

_By the middle of week two, Tony was trying to act as a ‘double agent,’ still pretending to be with Steve and Natasha, “Hey Red…Rogers…this test is half over.  The eleven of us are split down the middle.  Why don’t the three of us try and share information with each other, that way we can start actually figuring out who the mole isn’t?”_

_Natasha smirked at him, sniffing out his behavior from a mile away.  And she almost laughed, “Tony, you may be a hell of a driver.  And you have a hell of a brain.  But you aren’t fooling me one bit.  What, do you think Steve and I will show you ours, if you show us yours?”_

_“Oh, don’t forget…I’ve already seen yours.  And Rogers.  All of yours in fact…Remember…the locker room?”  Tony laughed sarcastically at her._

_Natasha rolled her eyes, and wasn’t going to be distracted by his provoking, because she was onto him, “Nice try, Tony.  I bet you talked with Rhodey today didn’t you?  And just like that you were going to stab me and Steve in the back?”  Tony’s ego was hurt from Natasha figuring him out so quickly, “I think you just don’t like fact that I may have a leg up on you in this area, Romanoff.”_

_Steve internally groaned.  Tony had just poked Natasha’s pride.  He was challenging her, in regards to her ability within the area of espionage.  At being a spy.  Steve should’ve known their truce and agreement to follow social norms was over at that second, because he could’ve sworn he caught a glimmer in her eye.  Almost like she was evaluating her prey._

_Natasha raised her eyebrow, “Are you really trying to tell me that you could beat me, Tony?  Okay now I really am laughing.”_

_And she did laugh.  And she made a **show** of it, embarrassing Tony in front of everyone else near them.  Natasha’s pride.  Tony’s ego.  Natasha’s ability to be a spy was almost dared by Tony.  Tony’s ego was poked a little too hard.  And that was how the two of them found each other…betting the other that they’d win, with only a week and a half of the challenge left. _

_“What are we betting on?” Tony scoffed._

_“I’d say your ego is large enough to compensate, Stark.  Bragging rights should suffice.” Natasha quipped._

_“You’re on, Red.”_

_And Tony left Steve and Natasha in the dust, with only Steve actively trying to clear the air, “Nat, let’s go back to your room.”_

_But Natasha’s mind was already racing.  The test wasn’t about actually finding the mole anymore to her.  It was about beating Tony.  The two of them had been in this unspoken competition since the beginning.  His ego versus her ability.  “No, Steve.  I think we should go for a run.”_

_Steve stared at her, “Nat…”_

_“What?  I want to go for a run.  Come on, it’ll be good for us tonight.”_

_They did go running, and Natasha led Steve all over parts of campus they never usually jogged through.  She was scoping out each area and her brain had gone into overdrive immediately.  She didn’t voice her thoughts out loud that night, but Steve could tell…this competition and bet was bad news for her.  And it was bad news for the entire group._

_And Steve was right.  Tony and Natasha getting involved in the grey along with everyone else, really ramped up the competition._

_Bucky, Wanda, Loki, and Bruce had shared their information with each other.  None of them were the mole.  Rhodey, Thor, Maria, Sam…and now Tony did the same.  Again, none of them were the mole either.  It pitted both groups against each other, but it also pitted all of them against Steve and Natasha._

_Everyone on both sides were convinced the mole was someone from the other ‘team,’ by the end of week two.  And Natasha actually started to wonder if it was possible that Steve was, and maybe that’s why he wasn’t sneaking around at night or trying to steal everyone else’s bags and purses like the rest of their friends._

_And Steve?  He was beyond annoyed, because **all of them** were failing miserably as far as he was concerned.  Everyone.  The entire class at Quantico.  He imagined a pack of hyenas would have had better social skills by the end of week two.  Because with only one week to go, everyone found themselves in a shouting match in the lounge area but him.  _

_It was a real Civil War amongst friends.  They all were so damn focused on the prize of winning and finding out the mystery of who the mole was, that none of them took a step back to see the bigger picture.  The bigger reasoning for this test._

_It wasn’t a coincidence that mostly everyone at Quantico was letting the stress of everything get to them.  The stress of still not knowing their field placements.  The stress of the lying and secrets.  And the stress of the fact that… **someone** …inside their group of friends was lying and keeping secrets well enough, that no one actually knew who the mole was.  Yes, with one week to go, stress weighed heavily, and not knowing was really starting to piss everyone off.  _

_Tony was convinced it was Natasha with how secretive she naturally was.  Natasha started wondering more and more if it was Steve.  And everyone else?  Well the groups found themselves splintering inside of their smaller alliances._

_Loki went off on his own.  Wanda and Bucky started only working with each other.  Bruce and Sam crossed over and paired off together, and then Thor and Maria and Rhodey wanted Tony to keep working with them.  But Tony had used them to gain what information he could, and was off on his own too._

_He was in this for one reason and one reason only right now.  To beat Natasha Romanoff.  That very first night at the campfire after their initial testing, Tony had challenged Natasha verbally.  And while they had formed a friendship, that underlying rivalry was always there.  They were friends, but right now they were frenemies._

_Once Tony was on his own at the end of week two, Natasha started sneaking out in the middle of the night from bed, to do recon on the grounds.  Steve didn’t say anything.  She started snooping through Sam and Bucky’s things in the boys’ dorm room when she found excuses for her and Steve to go there instead of her room randomly.  Steve didn’t say anything._

_She met with Loki in the middle of the night at the start of week three, agreeing to share what she’d found out with him in exchange for everything he’d found through his hacking.  Steve again, didn’t say anything._

_Steve did **finally** say something, when he caught Natasha snooping through **his** bag in her room, after they’d had sex, in the middle of the night…with only four days left.  _

_“Natasha, come on.  I don’t want to fight.  I thought we weren’t going to do this shit?”_

_“Steve, I’m not going to let Tony beat me.”_

_“Nat, I think we should stop pretending that this is about you beating Tony.  This is about you proving…because of your upbringing, that you’re the absolute best at anything that deals with being secretive and sneaking around.”_

_She rolled her eyes, standing up in his T-Shirt that went to the middle of her thigh as the moonlight shined through the window, “What, are you going to fight me, so we can have make-up sex in the locker room shower again, Steve?”_

_Steve groaned as he sat up in bed.  It was 3:00 am.  “No, Natasha.  I’m not going to fight with you because I’m not doing anything wrong this time, and you know it.  And you’re not fighting with me.  You’re fighting with your past, and your childhood, and everything you were taught to be…all because you want to show everyone that you can win at this too.”_

_God Natasha hated when he was right in moments like these.  And Steve **was** right.  She was completely naked underneath his shirt, standing over his bag after being caught snooping.  And Steve’s blue eyes just looked at her softly.  It was the equivalent of him saying silently, ‘I’m not mad…I’m just disappointed.’_

_She crawled back into bed, apologized reluctantly, and they fell asleep for real this time._

_The next morning, with three days to go, Steve gave one last-ditch effort to his friends and brother and girlfriend to try and plead to their better angels and realize…that this chaos…was exactly what Fury wanted.  He wanted everyone to fall apart to show how easily and quickly it could happen in the field._

_“Haven’t any of you thought of the possibility that there isn’t **actually** a winner in this test?  That when there is a mole on the team, everyone loses?  That this test is set up for everyone to fail and to be at each other’s throats?”_

_Again, Steve was probably right, but everyone…only saw the test ending in three days, which would leave them with three weeks to go. **Three weeks.** And then the real world hit.  So, of course no one listened to Steve.  In fact, his logic and level headedness were met with scowls and jeers, roasting him relentlessly, Steve sighed, “I’m sorry you guys think that way.  But if I see a situation pointed South, I can’t ignore it.  Sometimes I wish I could.” _

_Tony groaned, “No you don’t…God, sometimes I want to punch you in your perfect teeth, Rogers.”_

_Tony had an extra pep in his step.  And Natasha noticed it immediately, which only annoyed her because she thought that maybe he was onto something.  What Tony had…was a badgered Bruce by his side, who finally caved and gave him all the intel on Wanda, Loki, Bucky, and himself, that he’d had.  None of them were the mole.  And that only left Steve and Natasha.  And Tony…was 100 percent convinced he could figure out who it was between the two of them, with only three days left._

_Three days to go…Natasha stopped trailing and searching for anything from anyone else.  With three days to go, she focused solely on Tony._

_Steve caught Natasha sneaking out of her room that night after they had sex.  He stopped her, “Nat, you were in the Navy.  You know the importance of rules and order when on a mission.  Don’t you think it’s a little coincidentally crazy that everyone here at Quantico has seemed to have lost their damn minds…increasingly over the last several days and weeks?  Think about that before you leave tonight to go follow Tony…because I know that’s **exactly** what you’re doing.”_

_Natasha was dressed all in black, staring at the man she loved who was making all the sense in the world, but all she could think about, was her white rabbit.  Tony knew something.  He had to.  That’s why he was almost cheery earlier.   And the itch in her head was relentless with needing to know, and needing to beat him.  With needing to prove that she was the best spy here.  Because that’s what the mission was about, right?_

_Natasha had planted a tracker on Tony’s coat earlier and knew he was walking the grounds right now.   She bit her lip and darted her eyes back and forth between the floor and Steve’s stare for a few seconds…And then she left Steve in her room and ran out into the night._

_She did the same thing the night after that._

_And the night after that._

_She’d been tailing Tony for three straight days, wiping away his cheery attitude, and agitating him to no end.  Their agitation towards one another grew, and they picked each other to spar with in combat yesterday. The instructors had to split them up several times because they were going at it too hard._

_And now, it was the day before Fury called them in.  It was the day before the test was over.  It was the day before Tony and Natasha’s bet was due…proving just who the best ‘spy’ here was.  So…that afternoon when everyone was sitting around the lounge, tense and stressed, and irritated that their efforts and lying and scheming had gotten them nowhere, a couple of people **finally** started to come around.  _

_“Are we going to try to pick someone as the mole, and actually try to come to a consensus?” Bruce asked._

_“Most likely option is Rogers,” Rhodey said._

_Everyone piled onto Rhodey’s suggestion.  And Steve…had an idea, “You know what guys.  Maybe you’re right.  I’m not going to tell you.  But I’m not going to argue, if everyone in here is convinced that it’s me.  What I **am** going to say…is that I bet if we can go into that auditorium, unified as a team versus wanting to strangle each other, Fury and May and Coulson will be much more impressed with all of us as a whole.  In fact, we’ll probably be the only group to actually accomplish peace.”_

_He was met with silence…which was a lot better than the name calling he’d received a few days ago.  So, the group all agreed to sit down together at dinner.  Almost everyone.  Tony and Natasha were silent as cooler heads started to prevail amongst everyone else._

_“You know, Cap might have a point, guys.  We’re almost three weeks into this, and what do any of us have to show for it?  Besides Fury’s ego has been kicked up a notch recently…like he knows everyone is unraveling and is almost happy about it.” Sam’s words sounded a lot more like himself for the first time in almost three weeks.  Yes, things seemed like they might right themselves._

_Almost…But Steve was wrong._

_Because halfway through dinner, Natasha saw Tony get up from the table, and she didn’t **even** hesitate to follow.  She didn’t **even** look at Steve as she ran after Stark.  _

_Steve shook his head and decided that when she came back to her room that night, he was going to figure out a way to get through to her, one way or another.  So, he went and sat and read and studied in her room.  One hour, then two, and then three passed before Tony came looking for her._

_Steve told Tony, “Go cool off, and leave Nat alone,” when he did come looking for Natasha after he’d come up empty handed in the administration building.  Tony was furious at the thought of losing, and left quickly.  Steve sat there for another 30 minutes until Natasha finally showed up, dressed all in black, with dirt on her pants.  She had sweat running down her forehead, and looked as disheveled as could be._

_She’d broken into an administration building and a server room, taken pictures of the Mole Mission files, and copied actual FBI files onto a flash drive that she held in her pouch along her waist._

_And the adrenaline drained from her system as soon as she saw Steve.  She might have ‘won,’ at the stupid competition, but at what cost?  She was only left now, with her guilt from her actions._

* * *

_Steve stood up when he saw her face and shook his head, “What the hell happened, Nat?”_

_It was the calm after the storm.  Natasha had found out who the mole was.  But she didn’t feel satisfied **at all**.  She’d leaned into every instinct that was forced upon her, for most of her life.  She had bested Tony at spy craft…But she didn’t feel any sense of victory.  All she felt was hollow inside.  _

_She didn’t feel like she had the crown jewels anymore.  Instead, she felt weak and fake.  The pretend Mt. Everest was reached, that her and Tony…and mostly everyone else in their group, created.  And now as she looked down from the top of the summit that was climbed, she hated the view._

_Why did she do this tonight?  What was she trying to prove?_

_The driving test was about a specific skill, and pushing through exhaustion to find a way to keep going.  The trust test earlier in their time at Quantico was realizing the importance of having have trust in each other to truly be a team.  She’d succeeded during the trust test because of the man before her.  He’d helped her find an internal strength she didn’t know she had._

_And now?  It all unraveled and disappeared so quickly over the last week and a half, all because she was so goddamn focused on proving that she could be the best.  And now there was a vacancy inside her, even though her pack was filled with the contents she’d been searching for._

_Steve stepped closer to her, and put his hands on her shoulders, “Natasha, this isn’t about the exercise, and you know it.  Please start talking to me.  We promised each other we would.”_

_Natasha’s breathing and sweating had retreated, but her sense of panic started to rise.  Her denial about her behavior faded quickly as the guilt rose even higher, “Why is this so easy for you, Steve?  Being good.  And doing the right thing?”_

_Natasha pushed past him and sat on the edge of her bed, letting her head fall into her hands._

_“Come on, Nat.  You think it was easy for me this week or last?  I think you know, I’m not a boy scout.  It’s not like I don’t ever break rules.  Ask my C.O. in the Army.  Ask Bucky or Mom.  Or how about you think about how I’m breaking about 500 rules, in keeping the secrets I am for you.”_

_Natasha looked up at him, “Then why was **this** easy for you?”  _

_“It wasn’t, Nat.  But if I’m going to cross lines, there’s gotta be a good reason for it.  And keeping your secret, is about the best reason I can think of in my life.  It scares me how far I can imagine straying from any rules, following you…But it’d be worth it, because it’s you.  But I’m not going to do it for some stupid and fake test that I **know** Fury is setting us up with.  He’s looked like a cat that ate a canary for the last two weeks…and that man never smiles.”_

_Steve sat down beside her and grabbed her hand in his, “There’s gotta be a reason we break rules.  There **has** to be.  Otherwise, what’s the difference between us and the bad guys…What’s the difference between us…and your handlers?”_

_It was a verbal slap across the face as Natasha winced.  “What happened tonight, Nat?  You can tell me.  You know you can.  I will always listen, remember?”  She turned to stare at him with that vulnerable look, telling him that she was finally coming around._

_“Steve, even if we get placed in the same field office…What if I’m not good enough?  I look at you and everyone else here.  I look at all the cute ways that Loki tried to hack into people’s phones, or how Maria tried to seduce Bruce.  And it’s all child’s work, but they’re all good people.  Sometimes, it’s hard to feel like I add up to anyone else here.”_

_She took a breath, “Steve, I’ve **killed** people because my handlers made me do it to save Clint.  To pass their goddamn tests.  And it scares me.  It scares me to death, how easily I fell back into the mindset…of only completing the mission, and not actually thinking **about** the mission.”_

_Steve lifted his hand to her cheek, “Natasha, you listen to me.  You weren’t fighting against the team this week.  You were fighting against yourself.  You were fighting against your past.  But you know there’s a big difference between what you think of yourself and what I see in you.”_

_She swallowed, “What’s that?”_

_Steve’s eyes flickered.  He hated that she couldn’t see in herself what he did.  “Natasha, the difference is you’re here.  Not just in this room, but at the FBI.  You joined the Navy.  You **chose** that, over the other path that awaited you.  And that choice makes all the difference in the world.  Yes, you make mistakes.  Yes…you’re stubborn as hell.  But you’re a fighter, and a survivor, and would do anything to protect the people you love…You’re a wonderful person, Nat…And a person, who I happen to love very much.”_

_She leaned into his touch as he brushed a strand of hair away from her cheek as he finished, “And…you chose to come back here tonight.  You’re talking to me, on your own.  That’s not something you did during the driving test.  So, how about you tell me everything.”_

_Natasha took a deep breath and did tell Steve everything.  About following Fury, a month ago by accident.  About tailing Tony after dinner.  About the server room and her flash drive.  Steve blew out a large breath as she unloaded the events of the evening to him while he stared at the drive in her hand.  “Natasha, you can’t turn that into Fury.  You’ll be kicked out of the program.”_

_“Steve, I only did it at first because I saw the ‘Child Soldiers’ drive, and my curiosity took over.  I don’t know why I stole the other files.”  Another sigh, but Steve nodded his head as he looked at her and grabbed the drive…and then brought over her laptop, “No, Steve.  You can’t…I can’t bring you into this with me.”_

_Steve shook his head and huffed out a breath, “I just told you…I’m no boy scout, Natasha.  I just like to know what or who…or **why** I’m actually going to break the rules.  You copied this information because you’re worried that the FBI knows something about you, right?”_

_Steve knew her so well, that it was almost scary as she nodded her head.  “Okay then, we’ll look at it together, and we’ll destroy this stupid thing together too, okay?”_

_Natasha was tearing up as she looked at him and said nervously, “Together.”_

_And they did.  They opened up the drive on her computer, and found…nothing.  They saw the FBI had some information they used throughout the years in teaching courses on child soldier programs in Russia and the old Soviet Union.  The information was surface level at best.  It was similar to what Steve had heard, as rumors while in the military.  And it could be found by doing a little research on the internet._

_Not only did Natasha feel guilty, but she felt stupid.  Incredibly stupid.  Her paranoia and competitiveness took over for the last week, and she knew she had a **hell** of a lot to work on, personally.  But she was so glad to have Steve helping her through it all.  _

_They took the drive and smashed it into pieces.  Steve said he’d get rid of it by chucking the shattered USB drive into the pond in front of the administration building, tomorrow morning on their run._

_The important thing was that she told him.  The important thing was like Steve said, she chose to come back here and do that.  Just like she was choosing to try to have a different life for her and Clint.  To others, it may have seemed like nothing.  But to Steve it was growth.  It was trust between them.  It was showing, that she knew she had a lot to learn on her own, but could lean on him for support along the way._

_Everyone had come to the reluctant consensus that Steve was the mole.  Because he had to be, right?  With his good moral compass throughout this exercise._

_Little did they know, that his actions with Natasha, when it was just the two of them…proved that he wasn’t a boy scout in the slightest.  And that night was a twisted foreshadowing of just how far he would go for Natasha down the line._

* * *

_The meeting in the auditorium the following afternoon was revealing in more than obvious ways.  Fury revealed each group’s mole._

_Wanda…ended up being theirs.  The information shocked everyone initially, but as Steve had figured out, the exercise wasn’t really about that.  Fury also revealed that the mission wasn’t set up for anyone to really succeed in the end.  It was about each one of them figuring out how far they would go in a test like this, and the consequences that would follow their actions._

_Those consequences were still being felt between everyone across campus.  Words were said, actions were taken, lies were told, and devious maneuvers were performed against one another.  Fury lectured them all over the next hour.  Because really…every group imploded like theirs did.  Everyone had their internal demons they were fighting, and they all felt like they needed to prove themselves, which was also part of the lesson._

_Fury told them that in the real world at the FBI, partners would clash, and team members would disagree and fight.  But, if they couldn’t keep their own heads above water, people would die.  He emphasized the importance of not isolating themselves, because isolation caused irrational behavior.  And mostly everyone was irrational over the last three weeks.  He also relayed the importance of knowing when to ‘bend the rules.’  Some lines…are never meant to be crossed.  And while others are, it's important to have a clear conscience at the end.  Hardly anyone in the room had one at this point._

_While there was a specific mole in each group, the exercise really turned almost everyone into becoming one.  People turned against each other, became secretive, and hurt the people that mattered most to them._

_Their team tried to point out that Steve had actually figured some of this out, but Fury grinned, “If Rogers couldn’t convince anyone to listen or stop their corrosive actions against each other, then he was just as isolated as everyone else.  Nobody wins in the real world sometimes.  I know that’s a hard lesson to swallow.”_

_It would continue to be a hard lesson throughout their lives._

_Steve’s lines he would cross for Natasha…the consequences that would follow their actions…And the act of Natasha sneaking into the server room itself were all connected in another twisted and ironic way._

_Every action had a reaction, and specifically, the actions performed by Natasha here at Quantico…over a stupid Mole Mission, would have a reaction in the most unpredictable of ways years from now._

* * *

**_4 Years Ago –_ ** _Russia_

_“Steve, stop.  I need a second.”_

_Natasha was panting through heavy breaths as Steve slowed from their run.  They’d been going for five minutes, in tuxedo dress shoes and heels.  He looked down at her as she was bent over with her hand on her knee that wasn’t cuffed to him, “You never had a problem keeping up…Have you fallen out of shape over the last three years, Natasha?”_

_Steve was catching his breath too as Natasha grabbed her side and stood upright again, “You try running in heels, Rogers.”  She yanked on their cuffed wrists, “Besides, you’re the one that cuffed us together.  Kind of makes you have to wait for me…”_

_A stillness surrounded them as her breathing slowed finally.  Steve looked around the part of Moscow they were in now.  He hadn’t been in this specific area over the last two days.  He really shouldn’t have been surprised because **none** of this was part of his plan.  “Where are you taking us, Natasha?”_

_She tried to arrange her dress and Steve’s tux jacket from where it had rumpled from running, “There’s a couple of parking ramps about a minute away in the business district.  We have to hideout.  I have a place we can go, but we need transportation.  And whatever vehicle you were trying to get me to, back at Red Square, is not an option right now.”_

_She pulled him towards the business district.  It was close, so they didn’t run again as they had enough distance from the chaos that was surely, still unfolding in the Square.  Instead, they walked through the clean streets of the business district.  It was empty and silent as they trailed along the glass panels at each business front._

_Natasha looked over at the glass, and saw the two of their reflections.  At first glance, they looked like any other couple, enjoying a night stroll.  She caught Steve’s expression in the reflection under the moonlight…he had a look of surprise on his face._

_Steve didn’t tell her he had a vehicle.  He may have been pulling out all the stops with his best espionage tactics in Russia.  He may have impressed and surprised and even shocked her all to hell with his slick moves and improvising over the last couple of hours.  But Natasha **knew** Steve.  And he’d been set on pulling her towards the Square for a reason.  She took a swing at her guess with him having a car there.  And she was right.  She could read every move of his muscle still, so damn well. _

_There was really no use in trying to pretend anymore, so Steve dropped any ounce of his charade that was still up, “We’ll hideout until it’s safe, and then we’ll go back to my SUV.  Then we can get out of Russia.”_

_She scoffed, “Your delusions are almost as remarkable as the fact that you learned Russian.  I seem to remember you saying it was an addictive language to listen to from me, but an impossible one to learn.  I only got you to learn how to basically say, ‘Da,’ and ‘Nostrovia,’ before…”_

_He didn’t skip a beat, “I seem to remember thinking a lot of things were impossible.  Like how it was impossible to ever think you would **ever** return here, betray your team, and leave me.”_

_Natasha stopped, “Is that going to be your line every time I say anything tonight?”_

_He turned to her, “Is there anything else that needs to be said, unless you actually want to talk about how you could’ve ever left me?”_

_Natasha narrowed her eyes, “I think you need to answer a question in your head first, Steve.  Are you here to arrest me for my actions?  Or are you here because I left?  Is this personal or because of the job?”_

_A low and deep sound escaped Steve.  He was frustrated that his plan was blown to pieces.  But he was more frustrated that Natasha pegged him square between the eyes.  She knew the dilemma going on inside of him.  And she knew this was about **so much more** than his denial filled plan to arrest her.   _

_She put her hand on her hip to challenge him, but he wasn’t going to do this right now.  Natasha was trying to get under Steve’s skin, and he knew it.  So, they walked in silence until the first parking garage came into view as he said, “Come on.  Let’s find a car that isn’t locked.  Then we can get on the road, and get out of here.”_

_They started walking in between the first row of vehicles as they checked each lock.  Five minutes passed and about 50 vehicles were checked before Steve groaned as Natasha chuckled, “Yeah, it’s so annoying Steve…to think that people are so untrustworthy that they lock their cars.  I mean, what?  Do they think someone’s going to try and steal it or something?”_

_He clenched his jaw, huffed out a breath as she looked at him.  Even in his hat, and glasses, and blue linen shirt…Natasha’s stomach fluttered looking at Steve.  God, he looked good.  She thought of their kiss against the wall, not even 20 minutes ago and couldn’t stop her mind from wandering with his body so close to hers._

_“I found one, Nat.”_

**_Nat._ **

_It slipped out, and it didn’t go unnoticed…by him or her.  Either by force of old habit, or such ingrained nature of being around her, or from saying the loving term of endearment in his dreams at night, it had slipped out.  And now it hung in the air as awkwardly and obvious as their make-out session from 20 minutes ago did._

_Steve cleared his throat and pretended it wasn’t said…because of course, that would work.  “Right here.  This truck is unlocked and should do the trick.”_

_Steve was about to open the door, when they both tensed.  They heard the sound of three men approaching in the ramp.  They didn’t appear to be law enforcement, and Natasha and Steve’s instinct kicked in immediately._

_“Security from the Palace?” Steve whispered.  “I can’t tell.  I don’t recognize them, but maybe?” Natasha answered in the same hushed manner.  Steve didn’t kiss her to hide them.  There was no blending in this time.  The three brutish men were headed their way as Steve pulled Natasha into his arms to keep talking to her, “Are we talking or fighting our way out of this, Natasha?”_

_Natasha ignored the smell and the feel of Steve’s arms as she glanced from beneath her hat towards the men.  She recognized a Russian gang symbol on one of the guy’s necks.  Natasha couldn’t be 100 percent sure, but her instinct was telling her these men weren’t Palace Security.  But they weren’t here to talk either, “I think our only option is fighting, Steve.  Man on the left has a gun in front…”_

_Steve answered in her ear, “The large one on the right has a shoulder harness on, and looks like he has a switchblade in his front pocket.  You thinking what I’m thinking?”_

_Natasha took a breath and smirked at how naturally they fell back into the rhythm of analyzing and breaking down a scene.  It was second nature, and for a brief second it truly seemed like they were on an undercover mission, back in the FBI.  She took a breath, “Yeah, we only have your gun, but we don’t want to use it.  The sound could draw attention.  I’ve got the two on the left.  You take the giant guy on the right.”_

_Steve was about to mention to remember that they’re cuffed.  But Natasha started moving as he naturally fell in sync with her steps.  She drew her hand behind Steve’s back, with his own, hiding the handcuffs as she brushed his fingers._

_The three men paused, mere feet away now, as they threw their cigarettes on the ground._

_The smallest guy on the left was about to say something, but the larger man on the right grunted.  This wasn’t a time for words.  And Natasha got the feeling now, they **definitely** weren’t from the Palace, and were here to mug Steve and her.  Steve smiled, as the three men tried to match him with toothy grins, but the pause didn’t last long.  _

_The man on the left went to reach for his gun, and Natasha and Steve moved together instinctually.  Natasha didn’t waste a second, hitting the man in the middle with a high kick to the throat, letting her heel knock the air out of his windpipe which had him falling back and gasping for oxygen._

_Now it was two on two._

_Steve hit the larger man with his free hand, square in the jaw, as his face twisted to the side.  He reacted immediately, hitting Steve in the stomach and quickly pulled his knife out of his pocket.  Natasha pulled Steve away from the blade with their joined wrists as the thug was left swiping in the air._

_“Get the knife, Rogers!” Natasha yelled as she kneed the man in front of her in the groin, causing him to hunch over.  She stepped toward him and took his gun.  Steve landed a roundhouse kick to the larger man’s chin, causing him to spit blood from his mouth as he cursed in Russian at them._

_It was second nature.  Their habitual responses were almost reflexive because they fell into old rhythms and beats.  Steve and Natasha almost looked like they were dancing in the moonlight with their syncopated steps over those few minutes._

_It didn’t matter that their joined hands were awkwardly cuffed together while they fought their individual Russian gangsters.  It **only** mattered that they still knew each other’s bodies and impulses while fighting, almost as well as they knew how to breathe.  These men weren’t trained assassins, or even law enforcement.  They were street fighters.  Common criminals.  Thuggish gangsters.  And they were **absolutely** no match for Natasha Romanoff and Steve Rogers.  _

_Natasha grabbed the criminal’s arm, as she jumped up on his shoulders and wrapped her thighs around his head.  Steve pulled the other man to the other side of her, following the gravitational pull as their joined wrists changed directions._

_Natasha squeezed her thighs around the man’s neck, feeling his breathing decrease as the oxygen intake faded.  Steve had his man in a strangle hold with his only free arm as he grunted, “How long til yours is out, Romanoff?”_

_“Just a little…longer…Yours?” She groaned, squeezing her thighs even tighter through heavy breathing.  “Almost…there,” Steve huffed._

_Two resounding thuds filled the air as both muggers fell to the ground.  Natasha had pulled herself off the man’s shoulders as he fell, and Steve steadied her balance, holding onto her waist.  They looked at the third guy, the one in the middle, who Natasha had kicked away at the beginning.  He was wheezing, and still trying to catch his breath._

_Steve and Natasha drew closer to him, but he’d been faking.  Apparently, he had a few more brain cells than his counterparts, because he’d pulled his gun on them, now standing up.  Steve immediately threw himself in front of Natasha’s body as he pulled her with their cuffed hands, behind him.  The man was rambling in Russian, telling them to stop or he’d shoot._

_Steve walked close enough to him.  He peered closely at the gun and his face.  He could see the beads of sweat rolling down the man’s brow as his hands were shaking.  Rogers saw what he needed to and made his move.  The Russian pulled the trigger, but Steve didn’t flinch because he’d seen the safety was still on.  Steve confiscated the gun within a second and knocked him over the head with the same weapon by the time he could’ve counted to three._

_He was incapacitated now, just like his two criminal partners.  Three gangsters, two former lovers, and a pick-up truck waiting as their getaway vehicle._

_It sounded like the recipe for an evening that was as far away from Steve’s plan as could be._

_Steve was catching his breath as Natasha came out from behind him, “You’re not trying to be a hero with me, huh Steve?  If that was the case, why’d you throw yourself in front of me, just like old times?”_

_Steve groaned, as every heavy feeling and ounce of tension came rushing back between them, “Come on, Natasha, let’s get in that truck and get out of here._

* * *

_“Take a right up here, Steve.”_

_They were trying to make their way out of Moscow.  Their hats and glasses were thrown on the floor, and Natasha’s shoes were off.  She’d used the purple scarf, almost as a blanket now, to cover Steve’s jacket on her as she put her bare feet up on the dash._

_“Can I ask…Where did Steve Rogers learn to steal a car?”_

_“Afghanistan.  And we’re borrowing.  Get your feet off the dash.”_

_Natasha arched her eyebrow at Steve as she lowered her feet to the floor.  Steve tried to ignore her bare legs in the moonlight, but she caught his sideways glance, “Steve, we just beat up three men, ran from Ivan and Oksana’s guards, and you’re worried about returning this car?”_

_He was silent as she continued, “Oh, I see.  You just want to fight with everything I have to say, or not say anything at all, right?”  More silence, “Fine, Rogers.  I’m not in the mood to talk anyway…Stay on this road.  It’ll lead us out of the city.”_

_And it stayed silent…for about 15 minutes as they made it to the outskirts of Moscow.  They were on the edge of the city limits now, as they travelled through an abandoned and very old part of town, full of decrepit housing and rusted out factories.  It was deserted and honestly looked more like a wasteland verses the vibrant atmosphere in Red Square they were in over an hour ago._

_Natasha stilled as she stayed quiet, staring out the passenger side window of the pick-up._

_Steve could tell her mood shifted from being annoyed with him, to being…almost sad as she looked at their surroundings.  Just the smallest amount of tension eased as he looked at her again.  He finally broke the silence, “What is this place?”_

_The question was almost rhetorical, but Natasha answered anyway in a passive tone, “It’s the remnants of the old Gulag system under Soviet Rule…Back when they used forced slavery for labor purposes here.  Turns out Soviet rule was really good at forced slavery of all kinds…”_

_Natasha’s words weighed heavily in the space between them.  Steve glanced down at their hands.  They were still cuffed together and both resting on the counsel of the truck.  They were so close…but the separation between them meant everything.  Just like the two of them._

_Steve took a breath like he was going to say something, but she continued, “Clint and I were born in a place kind of like this.  A rundown and abandoned town.  And the training camp we were sold into after I was born, probably makes this place look the Ritz Carlton…The old training camp is about two hours east of where we’re heading actually._

_Steve…was speechless as the emotions inside him battled.  He was **so** **angry** at her.  His heart was ripped in two when she betrayed and left him.  But right now, Steve heard her talk about parts of her childhood, that she hadn’t liked to delve into very often, when they were together.  And her voice was dripping with a vulnerability as her words settled into his brain.  _

_Steve knew everything that she was saying, but it was how she was saying it…And the fact that they were leaving Moscow right now, as he could see a physical representation of the hell that Natasha was born, sold and forced into…Well, even his broken and angry heart was feeling **something** for her in that moment.  _

_More than something._

_Natasha felt Steve’s eyes as he kept glancing over at her.  She turned her head and met his stare for a second before he turned back to the road.  She swallowed and pinched her eyebrows together, “Don’t Steve.”_

_He sighed, “Don’t what, Natasha?”_

_“Don’t look at me and this hellhole of a place and put your pity on me.  Just don’t.”_

_Steve felt a flare of frustration rise as he lifted his hand to rub his beard.  But he forgot they were cuffed together as he pulled her hand up too.  He groaned as the mood in the truck shifted again, back into a more heated territory, “I’m supposed to what, then?  Look at this crumbling part of the city, listen to you tell me that you grew up in even worse conditions…and what?  I’m supposed to act glad and like I don’t care?  God, you are impossible.”_

_Natasha scoffed, “I’m impossible?  Steve, you have me handcuffed to you.  You are in Moscow without any backup, and without anyone from your team knowing you’re here.  Your mother would rake you over coals if she knew what you were doing.  I mean, you waltzed into the Kremlin Palace, speaking Russian to me…The Kremlin, Steve!  You marched in there like it was the fucking wild west…So, I think it’s pretty thick of you to call me impossible right now.”_

_Steve’s free hand gripped the steering wheel tighter, “I think you’re just pissed off because I got the drop on you, Natasha.  Because you couldn’t run out on me in the Palace.”_

_She yanked her hand…and his…back down to set them on the counsel again, “God, Steve.  Why are you here?  You’re not supposed to be here.”  Her voice broke a little as she looked back out the window.  The ebb and flow of their anger and pain caused their emotions to shift in directions as sharply as the right turn Steve had last taken._

_Steve glared out the windshield, thinking how everything had gone to shit so quickly…Whether it was his plan tonight, or how everything had turned toxic in the immediate aftermath of her leaving him three years ago…he wasn’t sure what his thoughts were more focused on.  But it was probably a combination of the two._

_Her voice pulled him out of it, “Why couldn’t you just hate me and move on like most people would.  Why couldn’t you see that I’m not worth the trouble to track down here.  God, you’re still a stubborn ass.  You could’ve been killed so easily in the Palace.”_

_Now Steve was beyond pissed off at how she was deflecting and saying so much without saying anything at all, “You know what, Natasha?  You act like I didn’t fully consider how much danger I was walking into.  You act like I should have what…just forgotten you the next day after you ran three years ago?”_

_He only took a second to take a breath before he continued, “What, our life together meant so little to you, that you could imagine forgetting me so easily?  How could you think that I could forget…after what we had?  How could you **ever** think I could move on after you left…”_

_The conversation had turned from heated to desperate.  And now it was just sad, with a rawness that left them both feeling exposed.  Natasha wiped her eyes as tears threatened to fall, “I’m not worth it, Steve.  I told you that three years ago.  Why didn’t you listen?”_

* * *

**_7 Years Ago –_ ** _FBI HQ_

_The stairwell door to the bullpen slammed shut._

_Half the team had taken the elevator and half had opted to take the stairs.  They had just returned to headquarters after a blown operation._

_Everyone was angry and irritated…and waiting for Fury’s post mission debrief.  It wouldn’t be anything positive today, because their attempt to bust up a large sex trafficking ring in New York, literally blew up in their faces.  They’d lost the criminals, and they lost the victims they had tracked.  The van they thought the women were in blew up before the teams’ eyes.  The women weren’t in it, but they weren’t rescued either, and the criminals had gotten away with them._

_The nine team members entered the conference room.  Loki had been gone from the team for a few months at this point.  They were distraught and worn out from a day that had kicked their asses.  And it was about to get worse._

_A lot worse._

_Fury looked up from his clipboard, “Where’s Romanoff?”_

_Everyone else looked around the conference room and noticed for the first time through their heightened emotions, that she was gone.  “She was here when we got back,” Sam said._

_Steve spoke up, “Natasha was pretty upset when we lost the women, Fury.  She said she was going to run home to our apartment quick before she came back.”_

_Fury let out a frustrated sigh, “That is **not** the procedure of operations here, and she knows that.  She’s been here for five years…What the hell has been up with her over the last two weeks?  Everyone knows we debrief post-mission…no matter what.  It’s needed for paperwork, and it’s needed because you all need to talk about the shit show that just went down.  Rogers, when she gets in, have her come and talk to me.”  _

_Steve nodded running his fingers through his hair as Tony spoke up next, “Steve, she’s been acting weird for the last two weeks, ever since Sam and Bucky were in that car accident.”  Bucky quickly added, “You mean the accident where Sam was driving and rolled us into the ditch?  Yeah, I think we all remember.”  Sam mumbled through his words, “Hey Barnes, that vehicle came out of nowhere and you know it.  Damn city drivers…It wasn’t my fault.”_

_Bucky smirked at him as they both recalled being discharged, almost two weeks ago now, from the hospital.  They’d been on forced leave and were finally allowed back in the field this week.  They had come back to this…A failed mission on their first trip out._

_“Quiet, everyone.”  Fury started._

_This was one of those times when nobody won, just like Fury had told them there would be, back at Quantico.  Fury went through the debriefing, and didn’t pull any punches as he commented on what they needed to work on and tighten up with.  He finished and sent them all to get cleaned up and write their reports._

_While they were leaving, he said, “We don’t win them all.  We can’t save everyone, so we save who we can, and we catch who we can.  And when it blows up in our faces like it did today, then we pick ourselves back up, and live to fight another day.  We do it again and again, until we finally get those sons of bitches that took those women today.  Understand?”  The team shook their heads at him, not feeling better by any means.  But they were glad that at least **that** part of the day was over with.    _

_Today’s mishap was rare.  Yes, mistakes and scary situations happened in the field all the time with the team.  Hell, six months ago, a warehouse mission was botched and Natasha was almost shot, leaving Steve scared to death.  But they had succeeded in it in the end, and all came out stronger on the other side._

_But real failures, where the bad guys got away and no one was saved like today, was a rarity.  It only happened about a dozen times over their five years in the field.  And each time, the failure left them feeling dejected and distraught, but they pulled themselves back up and got back out there each time.  And they’d do that after today too._

_They just didn’t know how dejected and distraught they would really be after today._

_Everyone went to the locker room to shower and change, and Steve…had this pitted feeling in his stomach that he couldn’t shake.  He couldn’t help but think that Natasha was going through something, and she was closing off to him.  She wouldn’t confide in him about whatever was bothering her, ever since Sam and Bucky’s accident.  And Clint stopped coming around over the last two weeks too…which was really strange._

_Clint had grown closer with Steve, more and more, over the last five years.  But…Clint and Natasha had their moments as a brother and sister, who’d been through everything in their childhood together.  And maybe this was just another one of those moments.  Maybe they were both having a tough time with something they needed to get through together first, before Natasha talked with Steve about it._

_Steve wanted to respect her and give her space when she needed it.  So, he’d pushed this nagging feeling away over the last two weeks, hoping that she would use her journal…and would at least confide in Clint if she didn’t feel like she could talk to him about what was bothering her right now._

_But that rationalization didn’t calm his nerves. **Something** had been really bothering Natasha.  So, Steve promised himself that he would talk to her more about whatever was really troubling her tonight.  He wouldn’t push, but he would nudge and wait until she lowered the walls she was attempting to put up.  That’s how they always worked.  And they’d gotten through everything before, so Steve was more than confident that they could work through whatever this was, together too.  _

_If only…_

_If only it were up to them talking through some bad memories or upsetting thoughts that she was having._

_45 minutes later, the team members were all at their computers as the mail was delivered to each of their desks and to Fury’s office.  He received a large manila envelope that had some suspicious writing on the outside.  Fury didn’t even bring the team into the conference room.  He yelled and had them all come into his office as he ran his fingers over the envelope._

_Natasha had just entered the bullpen area from the elevator and saw everyone gathered in Fury’s office when Steve saw her.  She still looked upset, but he waved her in.  She was a part of the team and Fury was going to demand to talk with her anyway about missing the debrief._

_Natasha joined everyone else and avoided Steve’s eyes at every chance.  She looked more than sad now.  She looked downright disturbed.  And Steve had a strong hunch, that whatever was bothering her was about a lot more than a horribly blown FBI mission or thoughts about her past._

_His nerves were firing and every alarm started going off in his body.  Something was very clearly wrong with her._

_Natasha may have been a little irritable and withdrawn over the last two weeks, but she **never** avoided looking at him…until now.  He reached down to squeeze her hand as she stood against the back of Fury’s office door.  Steve looked over and saw a tear falling down her cheek as she closed her eyes when he grabbed her hand.  Natasha gave him a quick squeeze and finally looked up to him.  _

_He wasn’t going crazy.  He could see it in her eyes.  Steve knew… **Something** had happened because Natasha looked…afraid.  And Steve’s stomach was in knots now as he felt a tightening in his throat.  _

_Natasha wasn’t a person that feared easily, and he worried something was really, **really** wrong.  He could tell she was lost in her thoughts though.  Steve was about to excuse the two of them to figure out what was really going on with her, when Fury’s voice broke that line of thinking._

_“What the hell is this?”_

_Everyone was crammed into Fury’s office as they turned to him immediately and saw that he’d opened the manila envelope.  Fury started thumbing through several photos and a letter.  The team would soon find out the letter explained in detail, everything about Natasha’s past, the secrets she’d kept from them at Quantico, and the actions that she’d taken…very recently._

_Steve felt Natasha’s hand pull away from him and saw her eyes move to the photos.  He listened to the hitch in her throat as she gasped for a breath of air.  And he watched the color drain from her face as one of the pictures fell to the desk._

_Everyone else’s eyes fell to the picture too._

_“Natasha, why is there a photo of you and Clint in Russia?” Bucky asked curiously._

_Everyone’s heads turned to Natasha as she stared at the photo.  It was from one of their trips to the ‘Mother Land’ from long ago.  She always told Steve her handlers equated their trips overseas to homages, like they were honoring their homeland.  Yes, Natasha had told Steve about those trips, but he and her…and everyone else were shocked as hell to see an actual picture of it._

_The Russian cathedral in Moscow was in the background of the photo.  It was unmistakable with the colorful onion domes on top of the structure.  Clint and Natasha were **very** young, probably in their early adolescent years.  But, the wild red hair and green eyes of Natasha, and the short and scrawny teenage body of Clint, who was standing by her protectively…were also un-mistakable.  _

_Steve felt the dread form in him.  It was a visceral feeling…that **all of this** was wrong, and deceitful acts were in play. _

_Steve saw Fury’s face as he read through the letter.  And he watched as Fury’s eyes changed from worry, to a skeptical stare, to a confused look…and finally to a hurtful glance as he looked up at Natasha.  Steve knew…somehow, he **knew** this had to do with her handlers.  Because Fury was now staring at Natasha as if they were in a standoff.  Natasha tensed and furrowed her brow, not knowing exactly what Fury was reading.  _

_But the hurt in Fury’s eyes left as they filled with anger.  That moment…Seeing how angry he’d become, was when the truth dawned on Natasha.  And Steve was in a panic because he saw Natasha take the smallest of steps backwards into the door.  And then he saw her grab the handle behind her._

_In a low, but accusatory tone, Fury spoke again.  And his words cut through the increased confusion in the room, “Natasha, why does this letter say that you and Clint were born into a Russian training program for child soldiers?  And, why does it say that you’ve been working with Russian spies since coming to America as children?”_

_Fury paused for a second as he put his hands down on the desk as the other pictures fell.  His voice rose, “And, why Natasha…Why does it say, that you’ve been working with Clint and other Russian spies, behind our backs in order to infiltrate American democracy…with the goal of helping secure the future of Russian and Soviet rule?”_

_Natasha could feel the heat of everyone’s glare now as they stared at her in shock and confusion.  Steve simultaneously felt like the room had begun to spin.  He didn’t understand.  The letter was letting the room know about Natasha’s past…_

_But what was this about with her working with Russian spies right now?_

_Fury’s voice turned harsh, “Natasha…I guess that isn’t your name, is it?  This says you were born as Yelena.  I have photos of you and Clint in Russia as children.  And as teenagers.  And I have photos of you breaking into the administration building at Quantico…where our server room is at, from **three** days ago.  It says you gave these Russian spies electronic copies of the operations and schematics layout for the Quantico training facility and for our FBI building here in New York?”_

_A few gasps were heard in the room as Steve felt the walls closing in.  No.  She wouldn’t do that.  Natasha **couldn’t** have done that.  He tried to look at her again, but she wouldn’t turn towards him.  She **couldn’t** turn towards him.  _

_“Romanoff, you better start talking because the last thing the letter says, is that you and your brother coordinated the escape of a van full of Russian criminals, thought to be spies.  It says they all escaped as they were being transferred from Rikers Island today, with the help of you and your brother.”_

_Steve felt everything collapsing and crumbling around him as Fury said the last two sentences to Natasha.  He felt like he was going to be sick.  This couldn’t be true.  Natasha wouldn’t help her handlers out.  Not after everything.  Not after the last five years._

_He tried to think about what Fury had just said.  Something about breaking into Quantico three nights ago…and Steve’s heart clenched.  Natasha said she had to help Clint out three nights ago as she left the apartment, and Steve just kissed her and hoped that she got the help that she needed in talking with her brother._

_Steve tried to say something that second, but he couldn’t find his voice as he kept looking at her.  Fury had said…Rikers Island?  The jail in between Queens and The Bronx?  Natasha wouldn’t help Russian criminals escape.  She **wouldn’t**.  No.  This had to all be a horrible mistake.  It had to be lies, sent by Ivan and Oksana.  _

_It had to be._

**_It had to be._ **

_He kept repeating that line in his head, as all of his other senses drained from him.  Steve felt like he’d been hit by a truck, and Natasha…looked like she had been.  He swallowed as he was finally able to say in a scared and timid voice, “Nat?”_

_Natasha took a shaky breath and then looked at each of her teammates and friends around the room as they all stared at her with hurt, confusion, and fear in their eyes.  She looked at Fury and her lip started trembling.  And then she looked at Steve._

_The color was drained from her face and she had tears falling on her cheeks as their eyes met.  And the visceral feeling from before came back, showing no mercy.  He knew instantly that everything Fury just said was true, and he felt like he’d been punched.  No.  He felt like he’d been stabbed in the back and shot in the heart at the same time.  It was almost an out of body experience as he watched his entire existence…and the love of his life slip from his reality._

_Natasha whispered, “I’m so sorry.”_

_And then there was a flash and a blur._

_Their life together had shattered within the span minutes.  Steve’s world and what he thought he knew about her, crumbled in that moment when she apologized.  She’d apologized because it was true.  And then Natasha ran.  She ran out the door, and Steve didn’t have control over his body.  He chased after her like it was an involuntary response as she headed towards the stairwell.  And he grabbed her wrist, just as she was opening the door to escape._

_Steve pleaded to her, “Natasha, it’s not true, right?  Just come back, and we’ll explain to Fury about everything else.  They’ll understand about your past.  Just tell me…it’s not true.  The last part…Quantico.  The server room.  Riker’s Island.  It’s not true, right?”_

_Steve’s voice was overflowing with desperation as he begged her, holding onto her hand.  He begged her with his voice as he frantically asked her questions he really didn’t want her to answer.  He begged her with his eyes as he searched hers for a truth that wasn’t there._

_Natasha pressed her forehead into the door as tears continued to fall._

_Her silence was enough of an answer.  It was more than enough, because it was **the** answer.  There were no words that could explain her actions right now._

_Steve felt like he was in the ocean, being tossed and turned around by wave after wave.  The thoughts and revelations relentlessly crashed into him.  He clenched his jaw, grabbing her wrist harder, now focusing only on keeping her there…because he was scared to death at what it meant if he let her get away from him._

_Natasha formed a fist and used Steve’s confusion against him.  She pushed her hand off the door for more leverage as she kicked his stomach hard with her foot.  Shock ran over him when she hit him, causing him to release her wrist.  He leaned over from the impact, and felt like he couldn’t breathe from what was happening._

_Not understanding what was going on, he looked at her with more pain and confusion.  But he couldn’t speak because his panic had strangled his voice.  She was crying harder now as she moved her lips to his face.  She kissed his cheek as he recoiled against her at first, but he froze._

_Natasha was Steve’s blind spot.  She always had been and always would be._

_Her lips moved to his ear.  She whispered as he felt her tears on his face, “Don’t you dare torch your career and life for me, Steve Rogers.  I’m not worth it.  You didn’t know **anything** about my past, do you hear me?  You only knew what I revealed at Quantico to everyone else.  Nothing about the camps, our handlers, Russia, my plan for Clint and me…you knew **nothing** , do you understand?  They’ll believe it since I attacked you here.  You are too good to go down with me, Steve.  You’re too good for me…And you always were.”_

_Steve was blinded by all of it.  By the letter and photos.  By her running.  By her words.  And he was blinded by her next move.  Natasha pressed into him with her back to his chest now, and she grabbed his arm with both of her hands.  Using all of her strength compacted in her petite and muscular form, she threw Steve over her shoulder.  He landed on his back against the linoleum floor, causing a loud thud to ripple through the air.  Natasha gave him one last look, with tears in both of their eyes…and then she ran.  She ran out the door.  She ran down the steps as the entrance to the stairwell closed.  She ran as she disappeared from his site.  As she disappeared from their life together._

_The whole scene had unfolded in less than 30 seconds from when she left Fury’s office._

_30 seconds was all it took to run away from five years of bliss._

_The team caught up to Steve and saw him on the ground as Fury sounded the alarms.  Natasha had a few seconds head start.  And as Steve Rogers would find out later in their tragic story…that was all she needed if she wanted to disappear._

_By the time the agents had gotten outside to follow her, she was gone._

_They would find out later through traffic cameras that Clint was waiting for her outside in his vehicle.  Natasha had no doubt been shocked at the surprising twist, of the envelope arriving at the FBI that day.  But the team would also find out that Natasha had left her badge, gun, and phone on her desk before she came into Fury’s office.  Which all indicated to Steve that she was intending on leaving everyone that day, regardless of Fury finding the envelope._

_Steve was shocked and frozen in his hurt and anger.  And he didn’t admit to knowing anything about any of her Russian and Soviet ties from back in their Quantico days.  He would tell Bucky and Wanda eventually, but not now.  Not today._

_He felt sick about it at first, but then everything turned to anger.  Steve felt betrayed and used, not knowing the dark and sinister strings that were being pulled and played with their lives.  In that moment, Steve wasn’t going to let his FBI career burn from her lies and betrayal…his conscience be damned._

_The hurt and anguish was evident on everyone’s faces…but Steve was destroyed.  Everyone believed him.  He didn’t know anything about Riker’s Island.  He didn’t know anything about her breaking into Quantico.  But he had known about her breaking into the server room during that stupid Mole Mission._

_It turns out what Natasha did during the Mole Mission would have a lasting effect well beyond that day._

_Natasha had told Clint in passing, about child soldiers having a file at Quantico and about the server room.  She had told him it when they had met up before her graduation.  What they didn’t know, is that Clint was bugged by Ivan and Oksana.  They’d heard what she did during the Mole Mission, and they’d heard about all of the intel that was in the server room.  And that intel would come to fruition five years down the road, when they demanded their due from Natasha._

_Natasha’s actions back in their days as trainees had a reaction.  Every action had a reaction.  And this one pushed back, years later.  If she hadn’t crossed a boundary back at Quantico, part of what her handlers demanded from her…as a payment of retribution towards them, wouldn’t have been possible.  It wouldn’t have been possible because they wouldn’t have known about it.  And if she didn’t have to break into Quantico, before she ran away from Steve, her handlers wouldn’t have had the layout of the building for the FBI Office in New York._

_The FBI could increase and change security clearances all they wanted, but the truth was that Poseidon had a map now, of the entire building.  And they knew everything about Quantico._

_By the time Steve was done being questioned…hours upon hours of being questioned…after an already hard morning with a failed mission, it was well into the evening.  He returned to his apartment.  Their apartment._

_Formerly, their apartment._

_And everything felt contaminated somehow, as he looked around.  Everything felt wrong…and haunted, like the ghost of Natasha was there.  Her ghost was there.  She was **everywhere** in the apartment.  At least her touch and tastes and lingering presence were all there.  Bucky wanted to come with him, but Steve refused.  He didn’t want to be around **anyone** that night.    _

_Steve looked at her coffee cup by the kitchen sink as his jaw clenched.  He saw her running sneakers by the door as his brow furrowed.  He looked at the living room, where the blanket was still on the couch from where they’d fallen asleep two nights ago, and he shut his eyes.  Yes, she was everywhere.  Like nothing had changed.  Only everything **had** changed.  It had changed within the blink of an eye.   _

_Steve went into their bedroom to put on sweats, and he noticed the same thing as everywhere else.  Everything of Natasha’s was still there.  Like she’d be coming home any minute to him.  He looked at their bed and the messy sheets, as he remembered last night as they made love.  Natasha had seemed distant and sad…and almost lost afterwards.  She swore nothing was wrong and that she was just feeling tired.  Steve again, was determined after the mission today, that he was going to get through whatever was going on with her._

_That was then.  This was now.  And everything was so drastically different._

_Steve grabbed the sheets immediately and stripped the bed, not being able to stomach the idea of laying in them tonight.  The smell of her filled the air as he threw them in the hamper, and his anger grew._

_He was numb as the questions from Fury continued as time ticked away and the day shifted from the afternoon to the now late evening.  But the second he walked in the door his numbness faded.  Any wall of defense and protection he’d managed to put up was crumbling now._

_Steve had never felt anything like this before.  His heart was broken, and he felt completely torn in two on the inside, as the anger and unforgiving agony coursed through him._

_Something caught his attention though.  Something that was out of place.  His dresser…Their dresser.  Steve walked over to it.  And there, on top of the dresser, was Steve’s army tag necklace.  The one that Steve had given her at the lake, after they said I love you and had made love for the first time.  The one that Natasha almost never left lying around, because she almost… **always** had it on.  _

_In the shower.  On a run.  As they trained._

_Almost always._

_Yes, the same chain and tag.  She’d had it on last night as he held her in his arms.  And now, it was lying there, on top of a note in her handwriting.  The note looked like it was scribbled quickly from what Steve could see.  Natasha had been here.  She came here either before she was at the FBI this afternoon, or after when she ran.  She’d been here and left the chain, and left a note that said, “Steve, if there’s one thing you should believe in after today, it’s how much I love you.  More than anything.  I’ll love you forever, my Soldier.”_

_It was too much, and Steve threw everything off of their dresser._

_He looked at the remnants on the ground.  It was like a snapshot of their life was displayed, and was now scattered on the floor.  His cologne and her perfume bottle.  A framed photo of the two of them on their first day in their apartment together, now cracked.  A dish that’d broken, tossing loose change everywhere.  Another small box, full of ticket stubs she’d kept, including ballgames and ballets and movies they’d been to over the years.  They were all strewn about now, as the box tipped over on the floor, emptying its contents from inside.  It all lay there on the wooden floor of their bedroom, by their bed, in their apartment, taunting him with the fact that she was gone._

_Steve crumpled the paper with the army chain in his hand and shut his eyes tight._

_He shook his head, and then opened his top dresser drawer, digging underneath his t-shirts she loved to wear.  And there it was.  He found the small black box that he’d intended on giving her…any day now.  After things settled down with Loki getting kicked out of the FBI.  After the almost botched warehouse mission from a few months ago, where Natasha had almost gotten shot.  After Steve had gotten through to her with whatever was bothering her over the last two weeks._

_After._

_There would be no after because of today._

_Steve opened the box slowly as an excruciating ache filled his stomach and heart.  He stared down at the white gold band with green emeralds and diamonds encircling it.  He’d seen it months ago, and knew the one of a kind ring was meant to be hers and bought it on site._

_The ring that was meant to solidify their promise of forever, in marriage._

_And now the box almost burned his hand as Steve closed it tight.  The ring, and the promise of what was supposed to be, was in one hand.  The chain and note, and the harshness of his reality, was in the other._

_Steve’s emotions finally burst through that wall of numbness.  The floor that felt like it’d been shifting beneath him, ever since he saw her eyes in Fury’s office, finally dropped.  And he fell into the sinking feeling as his frantic breathing took over.  Steve collapsed to his knees.  Shaking turned to tears, which quickly formed into the sobs of a broken man with a shattered heart.  Of a man filled with anger and disbelief and pain.  Of a man who could only think, that the love of his life was all a lie._

* * *

**_4 Years Ago -_ ** _Russia_

_‘I’m not worth it.’_

_They were in the countryside now.  And Natasha’s words, along with both of their memories of the fateful events from three years ago, weighed heavily inside the truck._

_So much, that Steve’s brain felt like it was going to burst, “I don’t know what you want me to say, Natasha.  For five years, we were everything to each other.  I don’t understand how you could throw it all away.  I don’t understand how you could go from being in love with me, to leaving that fucking note and chain on our dresser.  I don’t understand how everything changed so quickly with you, to where you didn’t think you were worthy of our life together.”_

_Natasha sounded defeated, “Do you really think you’re going to get the answers you’re looking for if you bring me back to the States?  Maybe there’s no answers for your questions, Steve.”_

_She blew out another breath, resting her head against the window, “We’re almost there.  Another mile up this road, and then turn into the trees on the left, just beyond the road sign.”_

_Their arguing would have to wait as Steve peered ahead, “I don’t see…there’s nothing there, Natasha.”_

_“You have to turn into the ditch where it’s shallow and go through the slight opening in the trees.”_

_Steve did as she said, as he braced their joined hands on the roof instead, trying to absorb some of the bumps.  They hit a large dip, and Steve instinctually grabbed her hand in his as they cleared the ditch, and then made it through the trees._

_A small, hidden and run-down house rested beyond some overgrown foliage, “Where are we?”_

_“We’re at Clint’s and my safehouse.  Our handlers don’t know about it.  No one else knows about it except Clint and me.  It was our fallback plan in case we ever needed to meet up when we were over here.  We got it right after I went back.  Three years ago.  You’re the only other person that’s been here.”_

_Steve felt like he was in two different realities right now, and it was maddening.  In one, he wanted to scream and shake her, and demand for her to tell him why.  For her to answer every question.  And in the other, he just wanted to hold her, and continue kissing her from where he’d stopped before in the alley.  God, she looked lost right now.  And he thought of all the times at Quantico, before she’d told him the truth, when she had that same look._

_The truth._

_What a cynical notion right now.  But she did…she looked so goddamn lost and vulnerable, sharing this other dark and hidden part of her and Clint’s life with him.  It was all so toxic and unfair, and part of Steve knew that his plan was doomed, more than ever…because he still wanted to protect her from all the pain in the world._

_He’d felt it when they ran from the Palace.  He’d felt it when he hid her from Rumlow and the other men, as he kissed her against the wall.  He’d felt it when he stood in front of her as the three criminals pulled a gun on them._

_And he felt it now as he looked over at her, knowing that her insides were in as much turmoil as his._

_Steve pulled up to the back of the house, hiding the truck well beyond any view from the road.  The house was more than hidden too.  He looked over at her again as she chewed on her lip, not knowing what the next hours would bring them, and nudged her head, telling him they could get out of the truck and go inside._

_Steve took the keys, put them in his pants pocket, and opened the door.  He got out slowly, and Natasha crawled over the counsel again as he held his arm in the air that was linked to her so she could move._

_Maybe he was a masochist, liking the pain that she’d caused him._

_Or maybe it was the overpowering fact that he was still so easily drawn to her, still so provoked by her…and still so goddamn in love with her that found Steve walking back to where he just exited.  Natasha didn’t get a chance to get out on her own, because he grabbed her hips and lifted her out of the pick-up._

_Steve’s mind and heart were at war with each other, constantly yelling at him inside, to either kiss her or yell at her.  It wasn’t just her that was causing this seesaw of emotions.  It takes two to tango, and he was a mess as he joined the dance.  And he’d been the biggest fool, to ever think he could hold himself together around her._

_Natasha’s breath caught in her throat as Steve lowered her feet to the ground and shut the door.  He hovered over her in the moonlight, and she recognized the emotions on his face as he tormented himself to no end.  It didn’t make sense._

_None of this made any sense as they stood in the dark, half in their disguises and half in their ballroom garb.  As they stood outside of Natasha and Clint’s safehouse, hiding from their past and memories.  As they stood in front of a stolen truck, with the noise of the Palace and security and city long gone.  Yes, they stood there in the quiet countryside.  And all that accompanied the silence, was their not so quiet and heated thoughts._

_No.  None of it made sense, but all they knew was they were in as close of proximity with each other as they were in the alley, and all they could both think about right now was that kiss from before, that was so much more than a kiss._

_All of the anger.  All of the pain and hurt and confusion.  All of the lust and longing and unspoken love…It rested in the mere inches between them as Steve’s eyes flickered down to her lips.  All of the unanswered questions and broken promises lingered in the air around them as Natasha breathed heavily, opening her mouth beneath his._

_Steve could see her chest heaving inside his jacket that she wore.  They were thinking the same exact thing, and they knew it.  And part of the problem was, that the more they yelled at themselves internally to stop, the darker and hungrier their thoughts became._

_Three years.  Three years of restless nights, forbidden thoughts, and wandering hands.  Three years of wishing they could turn back time._

_Natasha’s breath hitched as she backed up, pressing into the truck now.  A long sigh escaped Steve as he stepped forward, never letting the space between them grow.  She reached between their joined wrists, and grazed his thumb with hers, providing the needed spark to this wildfire of emotions._

_He wasn’t asking any questions right now, and she stopped trying to push him away.  Fate aligned them somehow tonight, and they were here, together.  Cupping the back of her neck, Steve watched as her lips parted again.  He drew close enough to her that they could feel each other breathe.  They were kissing without kissing, and dancing on a razor’s edge, of either stopping…or making more of a mess of things than what they already were.  And they hadn’t even made it into the house yet._

_Was there really a decision to make?  Hadn’t they already made up their minds during their kiss from before?  The thoughts of how they shouldn’t do this, only affirmed that they would.  Their attraction to each other had always been magnetic.  But with time and distance, and all the wrong thoughts flooding their senses now, the pull was stronger than ever.  And Steve and Natasha knew they couldn’t stop this dance, even if they tried._

_So, they didn’t try._

_Steve looked in her eyes one last time, seeing all of the want and need mirrored in hers that he felt in his own.  He pushed away the thoughts of anger and feeling weak right now, and dove into the familiarity of what he’d been most upset about over the last three years…of not having the woman in his arms, that was there right now._

_Natasha was about to say his name, letting out the softest of whimpers.  Her sound was more desperate than her words could’ve ever been, as she wantonly called on him to close the distance.  It was wrong, but it was thrilling as another breath from him trailed over her skin._

_“Fuck.”  He’d whispered so softly that she only saw the movement of his mouth, and barely felt the air skim across her lips.  And that was it.  The one and only word that would be exchanged._

_The more they tried to convince themselves to turn away, the more they couldn’t._

_Steve’s lips were on hers, and it was intoxicating as she hummed into his mouth.  They didn’t want to wait, and really couldn’t with how turned on they were.  She could already feel how slick she was between her bare legs, and he could feel how he was already achingly hard.  His brain shoved any warning thoughts away, suffocating them in the dark haze that had him feeling high on her smell and feel._

_It had been three desperate and lonely years for both of them.  His hand traveled inside his jacket, as he found his way inside the front of her dress.  Running his fingers along the seam, his palm grazed over her breast as his fingers tugged on her hardened nipple.  Natasha whined from the sensation and bit his lip, drawing a grunt out of Steve.  She needed more as her hand slid down to the front of his pants, feeling just how hard he was._

_It was a mess.  There were no words or explanations or answers exchanged._

_Only heady thoughts.  Pure id and no ego.  All want, and no logic as primal instincts took over.  Natasha’s tongue found his as she cupped Steve harder below, rubbing him a little faster through the fabric._

_Humid breaths traveled back and forth between their lips as she worked her hand up towards the button on his pants._

_Their cuffed hands held onto each other tight, pushing and pulling against the other as they finally settled together on her ass, underneath her shortened dress._

_Steve felt just as lost as she looked earlier, as his fingers traced over her stomach, and then brushed along her hip.  Another whimper was drawn from her, right into his mouth, as he kept moving down, until his hand reached under the blue fabric.  He felt just a thin strip of satin fabric between his hand and her.  He groaned at the feeling of her soaked thong that covered hardly anything as he forced it aside._

_They were each other’s drugs, and had been in withdrawal.  And what they were doing right now, was equivalent to mainlining what they’d long been lusting after for three years.  It was wrong, but felt so right._

_Another begging sound came out of her, and he swallowed it with his mouth.  Sliding his fingers underneath her thong, he felt her soft curls first.  He kept pushing, until he finally felt what he’d been missing every single night since he’d last had her.  Her swollen and aching lips.  He didn’t wait.  First, one was lost in her wet heat.  Then two, and then three.  Natasha dug her nails into his palm against her ass.  She wanted more and more as she writhed against him._

_She undid Steve’s pants, unzipping them as they slid down.  Natasha didn’t wait either.  Moving her fingers inside his boxers, she felt him.  All of him.  And every desire filled thought from the last three years was calling.  She needed every inch of him inside her immediately._

_Her fingers brushed along his tip, causing him to jerk.  Natasha’s tongue skimmed along his teeth as she kept moving, now wrapping around his length as he breathed heavier against her lips.  His fingers pushed and pulled, in and out of her, taking no time…but feeling every wet and heated sound between them.  Natasha squeezed his hand in hers as hard as she could, trying to tell him what her voice couldn’t right now…to do it.  To take her.  To dive into the need, they were both feeling._

_And Steve did._

_His hand pulled out of her, soaked with all of her lust.  Now digging his fingers into the flesh of her thigh, he lifted it as high as he could.  She fumbled around, lowering his boxers enough as he sprung free.  Natasha reached between them and tugged her thong aside.  Her fingers ran along her slit, feeling how ready she was as his cock drew near._

_Pulling away from her mouth, Steve pushed his forehead into hers, breathing and panting heavily, and trying to control his urge.  She didn’t want control though.  Natasha wanted him as she lifted her fingers that were soaking wet for him.  She shoved them into his mouth, provoking him as she watched his eyes darken even further.  He was painfully hard and she was dripping with heat.  He pulled her hips flush with his now, from his grip on her thigh.  And he was close enough to her core now, that their bodies did the rest._

_His cock grazed along her pussy, and was swallowed whole as he shoved inside of her with one hard and penetrating thrust.  He licked her fingers clean, biting down on them gently as she cried out softly from the feel of him.  From him filling her completely.  Their bodies were saying the words that they physically couldn’t and wouldn’t right now._

_They were weak.  They caved without even the slightest of fights the minute they were truly alone, and they couldn’t deal with those emotions right now, so they dove into the feel of each other._

_Here they stood.  Yes…stood, with the flesh of her thigh in his hand.  With them fully clothed except her parted thong and his pants on the ground.  With Steve pumping into her, harder and faster with each whimper and whine and groan.  And she welcomed the feel of all of him inside of her.  She had missed this and him so much that it hurt._

_She threw her head back against the truck, staring up at the stars and felt his beard and lips against her neck.  It was delicious.  Natasha ran her fingers through his hair and pulled, bucking against his hips as his grunts met her pants of breath.  Both could feel everything.  Both could hear the wet sounds between them.  Both could smell the perfume and cologne, and scents of each other._

_And both were begging for it not to end._

_It was a fool’s journey.  Just as Steve’s had been over to Russia, thinking he could ever be around Natasha without this as a result.  They chased that high as she lowered her head again, and he lifted his._

_Their eyes met, battling with each other…Internally, knowing how wrong the timing of this was.  They chased the memory of three years ago.  The feeling of home.  The time when they were together.  But as delicious and dark and exquisite as everything felt, and it **did** feel that way…something was missing as the chase neared the end.  It felt amazing as they had sex for the first time with each other…and with anyone for that matter, in three years.  But it didn’t feel like them.  _

_Not like they remembered._

_Natasha felt herself getting close as he held her tight.  Steve felt himself approaching the end, as his thrusts became more erratic inside her.  The moans and raspy sounds blended with the night as her forehead fell to his shoulder and his to the side of her face._

_They wanted the denial and reprieve to last a little longer, but it was over almost as quickly as it’d begun.  Natasha cried out from the pleasure as she fell, and as Steve came inside of her, releasing his pent-up longing and lust for her._

_Yes, it felt wonderful.  Yes, it was sensual and passionate, mirroring all the times in the past when they couldn’t wait to claw each other’s clothes off because the need was so strong.  Yes, they both had jumped off, at that oh so familiar cliff together, that they hadn’t felt in three painfully long years._

_Yes, it was all of that.  But it felt different._

_And the silence was deafening between them as their breathing became less forceful now, and as the calm of the night washed over them.  They finally stopped running and driving from everything in Moscow, and they’d caved at the first chance they had, being completely alone with each other.  But they had done so without any resolution.  Without any words.  And now anger and confusion and feeling lost, filled the silence…Instead of words of love and devotion and protection like they remembered._

_In short, they hadn’t made love.  And it was the closest they’d ever come, to truly fucking for only fucking’s sake.  Steve may have still loved her.  Natasha may have still loved him, but there was a Grand Canyon size cavern of corrosive emotions between them._

_Chasing that high had felt incredible and intoxicating for the five minutes their bodies were intertwined, but they felt just like a junkie or an alcoholic who’d fallen off the wagon now.  Because their high only lasted for that long as well.  And now they were crashing without the comfort of each other’s loving arms and embrace.  And Steve and Natasha felt weak and hollow inside._

_Steve pulled away and awkwardly pulled up his pants.  Natasha turned away from him, wiping her eyes, so he couldn’t see as she tried to arrange her dress and underwear with one hand.  They didn’t say a word, just like they hadn’t mentioned kissing, or really anything else…Because all that they could think about was the pain and anger and betrayal felt between them now._

_They were joined at the wrists, but farther away from each other emotionally than before they had fucked.  Steve looked at the ground, and her voice sounded just as defeated as he appeared, “Come on Steve.  Let’s get inside the safehouse.”_

_The safehouse may have protected them from the imminent danger of guards chasing after them, but it couldn’t shelter them from the their past and each other._

* * *

**Present Day –** Safehouse

Natasha jolted upright in her chair. 

She was sitting at the table with Loki as chaos unfolded around her. 

Sam, Maria, Thor, and Rhodey were already there when Fury had pulled in with everyone from Headquarters.  They were finishing setting up the lounge and living area, and turning the…safehouse into working order.

Safehouse. 

Tony had been working on it, at the direction of Steve, and with the approval of Fury over the last month.  Steve knew that the hideout at Headquarters was short-term at best.  And the day after he’d carried Natasha into the FBI, Steve was already planning with Tony. 

Tony had the resources, the brains, and quite frankly, the money to be able to help Steve and the team out.  He was only too happy to help.  Yes, Tony wanted to help his friend and ensure protection for the task-force.  But he also felt needed, which was of course good for his ego…But more importantly, it’d been something that had been missing ever since he’d left the FBI.

And with the revelation of Stark Industries’ involvement with Poseidon…well, he only leaned in further to ensure the safehouse was yes, safe…but also amenable to everyone’s needs.

The safehouse was a three-story warehouse, looking old and abandoned on the outside.  He had Happy Hogan working non-stop over the last month pretty much 24 hours a day with contractors he, 100 percent trusted, that had no ties to Stark Industries.  They had put in bullet-proof and fully-tinted windows all over the brick warehouse, protecting the building, but also making it look like no one was home. 

On the inside, there were 12 bedrooms set up on the third floor.  Four of them had private bathrooms in them, and the others shared family restrooms and showers.  On the second floor, Tony had all the workout equipment with an indoor track even…and more space than the team would ever need.

The first floor was where the lounge and living space, the kitchen and lab, and the conference and meeting rooms were set up.  It was all open and all for everyone.  Poseidon had been wreaking havoc for long enough.  They were a world level threat, who was threatening their lives and threatening America.  And they would need everyone’s strength and brainpower if they stood a chance to take them down.

Teamwork. Trust.  Living and working together all in one space.  That was the back-up plan with the safehouse.  For as long as it took.  And to do whatever it takes.  It felt almost like Quantico all over again, as all of the task-force members made their way into the building that evening, “Man, Stark really outdid himself, didn’t he?”  Sam was stunned as he took everything in.

“When has our good friend ever prohibited himself from outdoing our expectations, Sam?”  Thor grinned, but noticed the conference room and lounge and living area still needed work with getting everything set up.  So, they got to work immediately.

Natasha heard a couch skid across the floor which made her jump, “You okay, Natasha?”

Loki looked at her with a grave look of concern on his face.   

She wasn’t.  Physically, she was safe because she ran with everyone else an hour ago.  They’d driven out of the city towards an older part of town, where Tony had been setting up and preparing this warehouse compound for their safety. 

But emotionally, she was sick with worry.  She just needed to see that Steve was okay.  She needed to hear his voice and…she _needed_ to tell him everything they’ve been holding back on.  It was a hollow feeling inside her, waiting to suck her under, with all of the pain and anguish that she knew awaited her.

Bucky had clued Natasha in, at the hint of what Steve was like without her, and it made her feel awful.  And she knew all of the shadows and demons that lurked behind the veil of denial.  That veil that she needed to open for Steve.  Her capture.  Her choices and saying goodbye.  The loss of time and love and trust…and their child that they’d never know.   

Her and Steve had been walking this tightrope over the last three weeks, just getting through each day and collapsing in the physical safety of each other’s arms each night.  But it wasn’t enough.  They were going to have to trudge through the dark and despairing waters of choices and actions and memories, if they were _ever_ going to be able to step into the light again.  If they were ever truly going to have a chance of moving forward together. 

Their love could save them from dying and could carry them through fire, but it wasn’t going to be enough, if they couldn’t open up and talk…and trust one another again.

Natasha wasn’t ready to talk about anything that’d happened with anyone else.  But she was ready to try with Steve.  She was ready, because it was simple.  Natasha knew she needed Steve like she needed air.  She’d been lost without him for seven years.  And she’d been through unimaginable suffering and pain, and had gotten so far towards the end of her rope after she’d lost the baby, that she was ready to give up.

Natasha was ashamed to think of that time.  She was scared to dive into the black hole of memories from her 21 months of captivity.  But Steve…was worth it.  And she _knew_ that and was willing to try.  She was willing to do whatever it took to finally open up and talk with him.  To trust him.  To _prove_ to him, that he could trust her with his heart again.

She could think about proving and trusting all she wanted.  But right now, it didn’t matter, because he wasn’t there with her.  He had planned out the details of this safehouse with Tony, to protect all of them and to protect her.  Her eternal protector.  He had made sure everyone got out of the FBI, but stayed behind with Tony and Bucky to cover their tracks.  

Natasha trusted Steve, and trusted his ability to stay safe, but god…she was sick with worry. 

So, hearing Loki ask her if she was okay right now, made her feel selfish for thinking of anything else except for the safety of Steve and Tony and Bucky, “Not really.  I can’t help think that I should’ve stayed and helped Steve.”

Loki looked at her, “Oh Romanoff, I think your strength and progress is absolutely amazing, considering where you were a month ago when Steve brought you in.  But…I think you also know that wasn’t a good idea.  And a night like tonight, when no one had planned for anything, mistakes could easily happen.  And mistakes are something that this task-force, and the loved ones outside of it, simply cannot afford.  I think it’s safe to say that Steve would’ve been in more danger if you would’ve stayed, because he would’ve been more focused on keeping you safe, than keeping himself alive.”

Loki smirked at her, “You know, I couldn’t help but notice you and Rogers smacking lips, like the good ol’ days at Quantico before we ran out of there…”

Natasha ran her hand over her face and sighed as Loki looked a little confused, “The kiss…it was a good thing, right?”  She looked up at him as she chewed on her lip and nodded, “Yeah, Loki.  Of course.  I just…God, all of this is because of Clint and my handlers’ obsession at revenge.  I hate that everyone is here because of my life.”

Loki chuckled causing Natasha to lift her head, “I wasn’t aware I was making a joke, Loki.” 

He smirked at her again, “No, no…It’s just that, the last time I checked, Natasha…I’m pretty sure it was me and not you who chose my criminal path.  I made every single choice that I did after my mother killed herself.  Not you.  Yes, there were other factors.  And yes, I had a lot of anger about Fury not fighting for me back then.  And yes, it’s taken me a _long_ _time_ to realize this.  But at the end of the day, **I** made those choices.  And I’m lucky enough to have a second chance to repair some of the consequences from my actions.”

Natasha sighed but Loki continued, “You’re a very smart cookie, Natasha.  But let me be crystal clear here.  We are all here because we are _choosing_ to be.  It’s not just your life that was threatened.  It was Steve’s, and in effect, everyone else’s here.  Natasha, do you think Poseidon would somehow, miraculously not be planning an attack on America, if you and Clint didn’t exist?”

The common sense he was threatening her guilt with, was causing her to stay silent, “Yes, they’d still be planning.  So, the way I see it…is that, go ahead and feel the guilt you need to.  Work through that.  But don’t take on more than what you own.  Because all of this?  Is everyone’s choice, Natasha.  We all want to see Poseidon burn.  Whatever it takes.  So, instead of thinking all of the world’s problems are your fault, maybe you should see that you and Clint being here has purpose.  It’s an incredible value to the team and to the country in a way.  And you know, as a side note…I’m pretty happy to have my friend back and alive too.”

Natasha’s eyes were glassed over as she took in his words, “Thank you, Loki.  Thank you for everything.  For right now…but for helping Clint and Maria out over the last months.  Thank you sending Steve to come and save me.  I know you gave up your life.”

Loki scoffed again, “You know, Natasha, Wanda really hit me over the head with this when I first came into the FBI a month ago, setting this whole crazy chain of events in motion.  But the crimes and money?  It wasn’t a life.  I think it took being back with all of you to realize that.  I may not have the money I did, but I don’t even look at it that way anymore.  What’s that old saying?  No man’s a failure who has friends.”

Natasha grinned, “Loki, did you just quote ‘It’s a Wonderful Life,’ to me?” 

He smirked at her.  But before he could answer, the back entrance opened as the last two cars of people arrived.  Pepper had picked up Betty and Laura on the way.  Tony had asked her to get them to the safety of this warehouse the minute that Steve said go.  Betty and Bruce hugged and Laura looked nervously around as Clint went over to her.  Dr. Strange first told Tony and Bruce where they could shine a light, when they even hinted at the suggestion of him staying with the task-force, if and when it was needed.

And then Stephen Strange told them, “I’ll be around as an on-call solution for your secret surgeries.  But I have my own methods of getting out of the city in a pinch if needed.  So, consider me gone like magic, if you tell me I need to disappear for a while.”

The other car that had arrived, was Wanda, Peter, and Sarah. 

Natasha was relieved.  Of course, she was, but she was also immediately filled with nerves.  Not about Wanda.  And not even about Peter.  Even though she was overcome with emotion seeing him for the first time.  No, she was scared because she was going to be around Sarah Rogers for the first time since waking up.  She tried to battle that guilt that Loki just challenged her to, a minute ago.  But being around Sarah was incredibly nerve-wracking right now. 

Especially since Steve, was once again putting his life in danger.

Peter clung to his mother as Sarah carried their bags in.  Sam and Thor came over immediately to help.  And Natasha nervously scooted over as Wanda sat down in a chair between Loki and her. 

Sarah as always, carried herself as the rock, trying to absorb as much of Wanda’s worry as she could.  She went to the kitchen to make a snack for Peter and get some coffee going, but Natasha could tell, she was frazzled too. 

Peter shifted in his mother’s arms, “Mommy, where’s Daddy?”  Wanda glanced between Loki and Natasha, knowing in a second from their eyes, that he and Steve and Tony weren’t back yet, “Peter, it’s okay.  I told you, your Daddy is going to be here later, okay?  He’s just helping Uncle Steve with a few things first.”

She kissed his head and ruffled his hair as he smiled, feeling his mother’s strength wipe his worry away.  The innocence of a child.  Peter looked around the room then, and was in awe of all these adults running around and moving furniture.  And then he looked over at his Grandma in the kitchen as she waved to him.  And then his eyes traveled to the two people sitting closest to Wanda. 

Peter looked at Loki first, frowned, and then looked over at Natasha, “Mommy, who are they?” 

Wanda smiled as he whispered to her, thinking that no one could hear him, and then she looked at her friends, who honestly…looked scared to death that they were going to say or do the wrong thing around her four-year old son. 

Wanda laughed as she took in the site of them, “Honestly, the two of you…You are my dear friends, and you act so tough.  Think of all the things you’ve done since I’ve known you…And this?  _This_ is what does you in?  The inquisitive stare of a four-year old.”

It wasn’t like Loki or Natasha had really been around kids before.  And Natasha wasn’t even thinking of her own loss and pain right now.  It was just that…they were kind of shell-shocked, being in the presence of Wanda as a mother for the first time, and finally getting to see her and Bucky’s beautiful boy. 

“Peter, do you remember all the funny stories Daddy’s told you about how him and Mommy met?”  
Peter nodded, “Where you and Daddy went to school?”

“Yes, Peter.  That’s right.  Where we were at school with Uncle Steve and Sam.  Well, you know how you have friends at daycare when you go…like little M.J. and Ned?”

Peter made the slow connection and nodded as Wanda went on, “Well, these are my friends from when Daddy and I were in school.  They were there too.  A lot of the people here were.  Peter, this is Loki.  And this is Natasha.”

Peter looked over at Loki and squinted his eyes at him before whispering again, “Mommy, he looks like Daddy when he gets in trouble with you.”

Natasha burst out in a laugh, almost coughing on her water.  So did Wanda.  And Loki raised his eyebrow, but chuckled, “Peter, I think you and I are going to get along great.  Maybe when I get back from helping the other adults over there, you can tell me what your Daddy does to get in trouble at home.”

Wanda rolled her eyes as Loki got up and left.  Peter turned towards Natasha as she tried as hard as she could to not burst out again, this time into tears, “Wanda, he looks so much like you in the face.”  She smiled, “I’ve been told that.  James always says Pietro was watching out for him when he was born, by blessing him with my looks.”

Natasha watched as Peter looked straight at her before whispering again, “Mommy, she has red hair.”  Natasha smiled, as Wanda hummed in agreement as Peter continued, “Is she the pretty lady with red hair you talk about?”

Natasha turned her head to wipe a tear away quickly and took a breath.  She was so happy to meet him and be where she was, but she was overcome with so many feelings and emotions.  Wanda gave a warm smile at her friend, “Yes, Peter she is.  She’s the _very_ pretty lady with red hair.  She knew your Mommy and Daddy well.  And she knew your Uncle Steve, really well.  They were close like Mommy and Daddy are close.”

Peter frowned, looking like he was almost putting together a puzzle in his head.  And Natasha couldn’t take her eyes off of him.  Out of the mouths of babes.  Children could pierce through any amount of tension or bullshit or denial in a second with their innocence and lack of filter.  They saw the world as it was, and said what was on their minds.  Maybe Natasha and Steve could take a little advice from Peter.  He opened his eyes wide, obviously figuring out something in his brain, “Mommy, she has red hair.  Is she…Nat?”

Natasha was so filled with warmth towards the scene before her, and she finally found the courage to speak, “Peter, you’re pretty smart, you know.  My name is Natasha, but some people call me Nat.  Just like I bet some people call you Pete, right?”

Wanda smiled as Peter shook his head, “Uncle Steve calls you Nat?”

Natasha looked a little confused but shook her head, “Yeah, he does Peter…how did you?”  Before she could say anything further, Peter added, “He says your name at night.  He yells it sometimes too.  Mommy says Uncle Steve has bad dreams a lot.”

Natasha couldn’t help it as a couple tears fell down her face now.  She wiped them away quickly as she caught Sarah taking in the entire scene from the kitchen.  She was unnerved…Natasha felt like her whole skin was itchy right then.  Like she had been picked up and placed here, in this world she knew nothing about, and it started to become too much. 

Wanda could see it as she kissed her son, “Hey Peter?  Why don’t we go up and at look at our room we’ll be staying in for a little while?  Then maybe Sam can give you a plane ride on his shoulders, around the room a little later before bed, okay?”

He yawned but wasn’t about to argue with what sounded like a fun and new adventure.  Wanda picked him up as Sarah walked over with his snack to hand to her.  Sam showed her where he’d put their bags as they went upstairs, leaving only Natasha and Sarah now.  The feeling of needing to hide away from the guilt and shame and pain was increasing by the second. 

But Sarah Rogers had watched everything over the last fifteen minutes.  She watched the person who was supposed to be her daughter-in-law.  She watched the former girlfriend and love of her son’s life, as she met her grandson for the first time.  She watched the woman, who’d been through hell, as she tried to keep it together, meeting a four-year old boy she never thought she’d get a chance to.

Sarah had _loved_ Natasha.  Sarah was the closest thing to a mother…a real mother…that Natasha had ever known.  She was always warm and welcoming and loving, only making Natasha want to be a better person in her presence.  Only making her want to have that much more of a real family with Steve. 

But Natasha was scared of what Sarah thought.  So many years were removed since last being around her, and Sarah knew all the harsh realities of their lives now.  But Sarah…was remarkable and always had been.  She had surprised Natasha with her warmth and kindness, the very first time the women met.  When the brothers and their girlfriends had pizza and beer with her, back in their Quantico days. 

And right now, she was remarkable once more, as she sat down next to Natasha, “You know, the wonderful thing about children…is that they’re the absolute best at telling the truth when it’s needed the most.  They make things simple and sincere, and cut through a lot of the messiness us adults can find ourselves in.”

Sarah handed Natasha a cup of coffee she brought over, and Natasha didn’t know what to say or do, so she smiled awkwardly and set the cup on the table.  Fury’s voice was yelling at Loki and Bruce to hook up some wires in the conference room to the screens on the wall.  Thor and Rhodey and Maria were putting together some tables.  And everyone else was doing what they could to help.

“Sarah…I…”

Sarah smiled again at Natasha’s struggle with words as tears filled her eyes, “Natasha, I think we could all take a lesson from Peter.  How about, instead of all the messy stuff going on in your thoughts right now, you just hear me.”

Natasha looked at Sarah as she reached over, placing her hands right on Natasha’s, “I missed you, Natasha.  And I’m so grateful that you’re here and okay.”

The loving comfort of a mother was something that Natasha didn’t know as a child or as a teen.  But by the grace of the love of her and Steve, she knew it well for five years with Sarah.  And it felt so good to be by her again.  There would be words, sure.  And harder conversations down the road.   But right now, hearing Sarah’s loving voice, was just the right thing to calm her nerves, “I missed you too, Sarah.  So much.”

And then Sarah wiped her own eyes and pulled Natasha into her arms.

The love and devotion she had for her sons, and her incredibly warm heart, was the reason that Steve and Bucky turned into the men that they did.  She surprised Natasha so many times over the five years she’d been with Steve, with her giving and loving nature.  Just as she’d surprised her now. 

Natasha trembled as she started to cry into Sarah’s embrace.  And Sarah was a rock, just as she was with Wanda.  She rubbed her back and kissed Natasha’s head.  She was the mother that Natasha needed right now, soaking in some of the pain that was coming out of her.

Yes, Sarah had loved Natasha.  But more importantly, Sarah _still_ loved Natasha. 

* * *

 **Present Day –** FBI HQ

“Rogers, how’s it coming in Natasha’s room?”  Tony’s voice rang through the three men’s earpieces. 

Steve was running around the room they’d shared over the last four weeks.  He was frantically throwing everything of hers into a bag as quickly as he could.  He’d already gotten the rest of the evidence from the lab.  He coated the room down with rubbing alcohol in a spray bottle.  Tony had given it to him as a contingency plan in order to get them all out of there in a pinch.  He glanced around and saw her journal.  “Shit.” 

Steve ran to the other side of the bed again, stuffed the journal inside his bullet proof vest and was out the door as the smell of alcohol filled his nose.  Bucky almost collided with him, leaving the workout room where Clint had been sleeping.  He’d done the same exact thing as Steve had, “Tony, we’re done in these rooms, where are you?” 

Steve saw the smoke trickling through the barricaded hallway doors, that led to Fury’s office, Wanda’s lab, and the bullpen.  They had torched Wanda’s lab, and the smoke was travelling through the floor now.  “Why’d we set the lab on fire if we’re taking all the hard drives anyway, Tony?”

The brothers found Tony in the meeting room inside the hidden hallway as Stark responded, “First, you can’t be too careful in covering our tracks…And second, we lit this place on fire for insurance.”

Steve nodded, “Insurance limiting Poseidon’s time.  It means we got about eight minutes before the firetrucks and police show up, Buck.”

Eight minutes. 

Eight minutes and 10 SUV’s that were outside now.  But the three men were blind to the outside.  They’d destroyed all of the equipment that showed them security camera footage.  Steve spoke again, “They’ll probably be coming up the stairs and service elevator, so we can’t go through the bullpen.  How much ammo do both of you have?”  Steve looked at his brother and Tony as both men did a rapid inventory.

Bucky threw his rifle over his shoulder, put on his vest, and shoved his Glock into the back of his pants.  “I got four clips, two mags and three smoke bombs.” 

Steve loaded his guns and slung his rifle over his shoulder too, “I got the same ammo as you, Buck.  But I have five grenades.  Tony, what do you have?”

Tony had just finished getting his vest on, “I got about the same amount of ammo as you Brooklyn Boys got.  But how about we show these shitheads what we’re really made of?”

They heard a loud boom reverberate through the hallways, “Looks like they’re at the doorway by the bullpen.  Hopefully the barricade holds for a bit,” Bucky said quickly as he counted his ammo again.

The smoke was starting to make it into the meeting room as the smell of Sulphur entered the air.

“Tony, we don’t have time for games.  What are you talking about?” Steve’s field voice was in full control now as he fell back into the muscle memory of all the times that came before him.  He couldn’t think about Natasha or his mother or anyone else right now, because the mission was what mattered.  They had to get the hard drives and the bags of evidence that Bucky and Steve had out of there.  They had to torch the place, covering the tracks of any of them hiding Clint and Natasha inside the FBI for a month.  And they had to stay alive, of course. 

Tony smirked, “I’m not playing around, Rogers.  Let’s just say Howard Stark may not know what’s going on in his own fucking company, and he may have let our name be tied to a terrorist organization through his gross incompetence…But it doesn’t mean the company’s weapons can’t be useful for us.  Consider this a gift from me to the two of you.  A few prototypes I’ve had drawn up over the last few years.”

Tony reached under the conference table and pulled out a large metal bin and opened it up.  Steve and Bucky heard another boom, as the large steel door down the hallway and through the office area threatened to give way. 

“What the fuck is that, Stark?”  Bucky’s voice was surprised, but his eyes were glued to a black and very large automatic rifle with a flexible metal sleeve right beside it. 

Tony grinned, “I had a feeling you’d enjoy that, Barnes.  The gun uses twice as much ammo in half the time, as what you got on your back.  But it has one _hell_ of a kick.  The sleeve is made especially for the gun.  You put it on your left arm to absorb the shock, otherwise you won’t be able to feel your muscles for a week.”

“Come to Papa,” Bucky grabbed the gun immediately, sliding and locking the muzzle of the barrel in place as he cocked it. 

“Jesus, I didn’t think the two of you would need a room, Barnes.  Take her to dinner first.”  Bucky grinned at Stark’s words as he set it down to figure out how the metal and flexible sleeve worked to put over his left arm, “What do you have for yourself, Tony?”

Tony was putting his own protective sleeves on his arms.  Only they weren’t metal.  They looked like they were protective gear for fire.  Tony smirked as he pulled out three large sections of a weapon of sorts, made of iron.  “I call her Veronica, boys.  She’s pretty.  She’s shiny.  And she packs a _hell_ of a fucking punch.  Think of her as a combination between a flame thrower and grenade launcher.  Rogers, Barnes.  Hand over your bombs and grenades you have, and I’ll add it to my stash here.”

Tony locked the iron pieces into place, and he looked like he had…yes, a grenade launcher combined with a flame thrower to use.  He had fuel canisters on his back and slung the weapon over his shoulder as he grabbed the third piece, the harness.

The loud slamming sounds started to become more frequent now, “I think they have some sort of battering ram they’re trying to bust through the steel door with.”  Steve said it as he watched Tony sling the harness over his shoulders to help hold Veronica as he heard Stark continue, “I should create some sort of powered metal suit or something, if I decide to use this thing again after tonight.  It’d make it a hell of a lot easier to carry around.”

“Tony, is that thing fucking battery operated?  What the hell do you have on your chest?”  Bucky had tightened the straps on his sleeve under his bicep, getting used to the feel of the flexible metal as he looked over at Tony.  Tony’s weapon…Veronica, was so heavy, that the harness was needed.  And the harness on his shoulders almost made Tony look like someone in a marching band carrying the drums.  But in the middle of the harness, crossed over his heart, was a circular glowing light, looking like a battery. 

“No, it doesn’t run on a battery, Barnes.  But if I hook Veronica up to my portable pack here, it makes her extra bitchy to deal with, and she can get real vicious if I use it with both the flame thrower and grenade launcher at the same time.”  Bucky couldn’t stop grinning even though the banging was getting faster and louder.

Steve groaned, “Guys.  Quit fucking drooling over Tony’s sales pitch for weapons with women’s names and focus.  Buck, if you’re going to use…that beast of a gun, give me your extra clips and Glock.”

Bucky kept his rifle but gave Steve the rest.  Clicking and popping and the sounds of clanging steel and iron filled the air, in between the thudding that came down the hallway, “Tony, what’s in that box for Steve?”

“Hey Rogers, what do you say you lead us all back to our loved ones tonight as we take these sons of bitches out?”

Tony’s voice was gritty and stern, and 100 percent sincere as he pulled out a large circular, metal object that he flipped over to hand to Steve.  There were leather straps on the caved in side.

Steve looked at Tony.  They’d had some harsh words for each other a month ago when they first encountered one another again.  They’d had a competitive friendship over the years.  And they weren’t the mushy type.

But they were very close and always had been.  They just had a lot of shit covering up that friendship over the last several years.  And working together over the last month had done a lot of damage repair between the two of them.  They both respected and loved one another.  And while they may have had different approaches on how to tackle a situation at times, they were determined as hell to lead the task-force to victory.  To find all of them, free and clear of Poseidon’s sadistic grasp on their lives.  They were determined to win and take down this terrorist organization. 

And tonight, was their starting point.

Steve’s strong hands ran over the smooth metal surface as he looked up as Tony said, “It’s a special type of metal that Happy and his team were working on over the last couple of years.  It’s used in space shuttles, and has an incredibly high shock and energy absorption ability.  It’s light but strong as hell, and will protect you from any incoming bullet…and hopefully most other weapons.  Poseidon doesn’t know about any of these weapons because Happy, myself, and our team were working on them off books.”

Steve strapped the circular shield onto his arm and tightened the leather straps, securing it in place as he moved it through the air, “I can’t believe how light this is, Tony.”

“Yeah well, I figured if you’re going to lead us out of here and out of this mess in general, I can’t have a piece of heavy steel weighing you down can I, Cap?”  Steve didn’t smile, but his eyes said everything they needed to in addition to his words, “Thank you, Tony.”

Tony smiled back as he shook Steve’s hand, “Will you keep these a little quiet?  I didn’t bring one for the whole team, when we get back to the safehouse.  And I say _when_ , because we are getting back there.”

Steve stood in front of Bucky and Tony now, with his shield strapped on.  He was armed and ready, “Yes, Tony we are.  We clear the stairwell and get the hell out of here with the evidence and drives.  Whatever it takes.” 

Bucky clenched his jaw, bracing his new gun against his metal sleeve, “Whatever it takes.”

Tony nodded, lifting Veronica into place with the help of his harness, “Whatever it takes.”

* * *

An ear-piercing sound rang through the hallway, through the doors, and into the conference room as the three men all covered their ears at once and yelled out from the pain.

Steve was shouting, but couldn’t hear his own voice.  A sound grenade had gone off in the bullpen causing the earsplitting boom to roar through the floor.  And it meant Poseidon finally breached the fireproof, stairwell door. 

Bucky had gripped the table, feeling a little dizzy from the bomb as Tony kept tapping the side of his ears.

Thankfully, their hearing was coming back slowly because they were far enough away.  If they’d been in the bullpen when it went off, they would be struggling for days. 

Steve lifted the shield to his ear and tapped on it with his fingers as he could hear the soft ting now.  He shook his head and looked at the two men with him.  They threw the bags of evidence, belongings, and hard drives into the metal tub Tony had the weapons in before and kept it in the room. 

Tony and Bucky narrowed their eyes as they turned at Steve’s orders, “Let’s go get these assholes.” 

And they were off in formation with Steve leading the way.  His shield was in front as his rifle was drawn, along with Bucky’s gun and Tony’s…Veronica.  The hallway was filled with smoke from Wanda’s lab now as they peeked inside.  Every computer sparked from the flames that encompassed them.  Steve lifted his rifle, clenched his fist over it, and signaled at his team to hold up. 

Steve looked over his shoulder at Tony and mouthed to him, the words smoke bomb, and pointed down the hallway toward the bullpen. 

A man in black tactical gear turned the corner and yelled, at who surely were Poseidon criminals behind him, signaling he’d spotted part of the FBI team.  His scream didn’t last though.  Tony had shot the bomb, with the full force of Veronica behind it and sent the man five feet backwards as the smoke exploded from impact. 

The fog of the smoke billowing from Wanda’s lab, mixed with the bomb that had white clouds pouring from it in the bullpen, clouded their sight.  The men pulled up their goggles from their necks and tried to control their breathing.  Bucky and Steve were left, thinking of all the times in Afghanistan as similar sights surrounded them.

They marched forward as Bucky caught the shadows of two other men turning the corner.  Barnes didn’t hesitate as two gunshots burst from his automatic weapon.  He still felt the kickback, even with the metal sleeve on as he braced his stance from the force of the shots.  But it worked.  He watched the men fall to the ground.  Bucky had shot them both in the legs as they crawled away from the hallway, screaming in pain. 

Steve kept moving forward as the end of the hallway approached.  They could hear men.  Probably 10 or more coming into the bullpen from the stairwell.  The leader was yelling, “Spread out and find Romanoff.  We’re not leaving without her.  If you find Rogers, you leave that fucker to me.”

Tony and Bucky looked at each other as Steve’s grip on his rifle tightened.  The man who was just yelling didn’t know it yet, but Steve just made him his number one target with what he’d just said.

Steve lowered himself in a crouched position.  He walked in the hunched stance, across the open space quickly.  He made it behind the first set of grouped cubicles.  Tony made the next move, launching another grenade toward the opposite corner of the room.  He distracted the men that were already in the doorway.  And Bucky ran next, hiding behind the set of desks as Tony kept watch from their hallway. 

Bucky and Steve looked at each other and nodded, knowing what their next moves were going to be from fighting so in sync over the years together. 

Steve ran to the right of the room, coming up from behind two of Poseidon’s men. 

Thrusting the edge of the shield into the first man’s neck, he fell to the ground gasping for breath.  Steve kicked the legs out from the other man as he heard the crunch in his knees from the impact of his boot.  The smoke made seeing things far away difficult.  But up close, Poseidon’s black tactical gear stood out. 

More men were coming at Stark as Tony was using Veronica with more ease now.  He’d turned the flame thrower on and was launching another smoke bomb and grenade at a group of five Poseidon enemies.  The first smoke canister hit them, but the second grenade missed and went into the stairwell behind them. 

The good news was that the large explosion blocked the other half of Poseidon’s forces’ from entering. 

But the bad news was pointed out by Bucky, “Tony, that was our exit!”

“I’ll find us another way out, Barnes!”

Bucky ran to the left of Steve as the brothers stood back-to-back now.  They spun in a circle, taking in the room as they both used their guns on any of the dark shadows they could make out in the room. 

Half of Poseidon’s men were focused on Tony because of all the damage Veronica was causing.  And she was causing _a_ _lot_ of damage.  The sprinklers overhead, were going off, trying to calm the flames in the stairwell and bullpen.  Parts of the ceiling tiles had started to crumble.  And all three men were coughing in between their breathing now, from how thick the smoke was. 

The other half of Poseidon’s forces that were inside the blocked doorway already, focused on the brothers, now on the complete opposite side of the bullpen from Stark. 

“This is just like Kandahar, Steve.”

Pop. Pop. Pop.

The constant thrum of gunfire filled the air as the brothers took out four more terrorists. 

Bucky gave a firm kick to a man coming out of the smoke at him and shot him straight in the groin, as blood spurted out of him and onto Bucky’s sleeve.  Bucky could instantly smell the copper from the blood as the man was screaming in pain. 

And Bucky was screaming to Steve, “I love this fucking gun!”

Steve suddenly threw himself in front of Bucky as gunshots started billowing towards them.  One of Poseidon’s thugs had a machine gun, and was standing on a desk, now having the aerial advantage. 

The shield was truly one of a kind and did exactly what Tony said it would.  Steve could feel and hear the shots on the other side of the metal as he held it in front of him and Bucky.  They crouched down behind a desk, covering themselves in protection, but hearing the constant gunfire around them now. 

Steve looked at the shield quickly in disbelief, realizing the absorption and strength of the special metal was beyond extraordinary, “We gotta take out that gun, Buck…And by the way, you and I remember Kandahar very differently.” 

Bucky smirked and nodded as Steve started charging at full speed towards the man and the machine gun.  Bucky covered Steve, shooting three more of Poseidon’s brutes in the thigh, the throat, and the head.  Tony, Bucky, and Steve were vastly outnumbered, but the talent level wasn’t even comparable.  Tony’s brain with his use of Veronica, burning and blowing the bullpen to smithereens…Steve’s tactical skills and strength…and Bucky’s sharpshooting capability was impeccable as Poseidon’s forces fell, one by one. 

Steve reached the man with the machine gun, blocking the constant thrum of gunfire the entire way until the man’s clip had run out.  Steve used the shield as he dropped down into a knee slide, and thrusted the metal into the man’s kneecaps.  He fell to the floor and Steve knocked him out with a single punch to the throat and tossed his gun aside.    

Steve stood up and did a quick count.  It looked like 12 of Poseidon’s men were either dead, knocked out, or screaming in pain on the ground.  But it was only the first wave.  The other half had busted through the rubble that was blocking the stairwell’s doorway. 

And the man that had been yelling for Rogers and Romanoff’s blood before, came lunging from the shadows.  Steve was hit on the side of the head with the man’s rifle barrel. 

Steve groaned as he grabbed his shield and angled it, flinging it towards the guy.  The shield hit him square in the jaw as his head contorted awkwardly, causing spit and blood to come out of his mouth. 

“You okay, Steve?”

Steve looked over at Bucky and nodded.  Steve felt the gash on his cheek as blood ran down into his beard, “Yeah, you and Tony cover the stairwell and take out the rest.  Bucky looked back at him, but Steve’s eyes widened.

“Buck, behind you!  Steve picked up the shield instantly and threw it like a disk, right by Bucky’s head.  The shield hit the man behind Bucky, square in the chest, and knocked him on his ass as the gunfire missed both Steve and his brother.  Bucky caught the shield before it hit the floor and nodded at Steve, “Thanks for that one.  Nice throw…I’ll keep this thing warm for you for a bit.”

Steve didn’t have a chance to say anything back though because he was pulled to the ground.

The guy he’d knocked to the floor was back, standing up again, and Steve looked at him hard…he recognized him.  From pictures over the last month, but more importantly, from Russia when he and Natasha were running through Red Square.  It was Brock Rumlow, “Rogers, I’m going to enjoy watching you bleed.”

Steve kicked off the ground in a back handspring and was back on his feet, squaring off with Rumlow. 

Steve attacked first, hitting low, and making contact with a punch to his stomach.  His movements were swift as Steve’s knee slammed into his groin, followed by an uppercut to his jaw.  Rumlow’s groans were loud as he spit more blood out, but he came back with force.

Rumlow was relentless, ruthlessly kicking at Steve’s knee, causing Rogers to bend over.  Rumlow didn’t let up as his fists with brass knuckles, met Steve’s face again, and then his stomach and sides, over and over and over again.  Even with his vest on, Steve grunted and groaned.  He grabbed Rogers’ shoulders as his knee slammed into his chest, causing Steve to cough from more than just smoke.  And then the brass knuckles met Steve’s chin.  Hard.  So hard that Steve could hear the metal making contact with his jaw before his body toppled toward the ground from the force of the punch.    

Steve wheezed and spit out his own blood as Rumlow took a breath.  And that was all that was needed as Steve got back up.  He caught Rumlow’s fist on his next punch, and held it firmly in his palm.  Rumlow was strong, but Steve was _stronger_. 

Steve shook with anger as he squeezed his hand as hard as he could around Rumlow’s fist and then kicked him viciously in the stomach.  Rumlow fell to his knees. 

“Where’s Ivan and Oksana?” Steve yelled at him as he hit him in the face.  Rumlow pulled out his knife but was weakened from Steve’s strength and failed to make contact with the blade as it fell to the ground.  Steve grabbed that hand too and snapped his wrist back, hearing the crack instantly as Rumlow screamed in pain from the breaking bone.  Steve didn’t let up as he held both of his hands now and shouted in a ferocious tone, “Where’s Ivan and Oksana?  This is going to end!”

Steve released one of his hands and punched Rumlow in the throat three times, causing him to cough and spit and desperately gasp for air, “Where are they you son of a bitch?”

Steve was oblivious as his rage built to what was going on behind him.

Tony was throwing flames now in every direction, actually burning the bullpen to the ground.  Four of Poseidon’s men caught on fire near the stairwell.  One had fallen over the railing as he toppled down two floors.  He’d thrown three more smoke bombs into the doorway, making it impossible for Poseidon to see anything as they tried to enter.  Tony’s last grenade he’d fired, caused him to be flung back into the wall, three feet away from him. 

His expression was somewhere between shocked and thrilled. 

Bucky had shot three more men.  One in ass, one in the thigh, and one in the knee, blowing a kneecap to pieces as more blood splattered on Barnes’ face this time.  He’d even used the metal casing on his arm to beat another terrorist over the head, “I think they’re falling back on us, Stark.  The cops and fire department are gonna be here any second.”

Tony got back up and turned on his battery pack as he made his way physically to the stairwell.  Stark coughed, as the smoke continued to smother his senses.  But he didn’t have to be perfect with his aim on the next move.  The battery pack on his chest was turned on.  And the extra boost from the glowing circle gave Veronica the extra oomph to her bitchiness as Tony had described earlier.  The flames went twice as far, pushing Poseidon down two full sets of stairs.  And then Tony blasted the last two of his grenades straight down the middle of the opening in the stairwell.  They went all the way down to the bottom, on the very first floor. 

Tony and Bucky heard…and felt two booming explosions as the grenades hit the ground.  Tony turned around and nodded at Bucky as Barnes screamed, “Stark, get down!”

Tony dropped to the floor as Bucky shot two more rounds, and hit two of Poseidon’s fiends square in the neck.  They were kill shots.  The men didn’t even have a chance to fire their drawn weapons.  They fell to the floor instantly as the blood spurted from their lifeless bodies on the linoleum floor.  They would find out that the one of the men was one of Ivan and Oksana’s head security guards – Jack Rollins.  Bucky grabbed the radio attached to Rollins hip and tucked it in his vest.

They looked around at what had been their place of growth and development in the FBI.  And now it looked like a warzone.  Crumbling ceiling tiles as the sprinklers struggled to keep up with the burning flames.  Black and white smoke from fire and the grenades billowed out of the hallway and the stairwell.  Bodies of screaming Poseidon terrorists were all around, from being shot in the legs and groins and arms and everywhere else their vests weren’t covering. 

And the bodies of the dead Poseidon men.  Bucky did a count of what he could see.  There were at least 17, but he couldn’t be sure.  And the last two that Bucky had shot, were certainly not going to be getting up ever again.  Pockets of fire remained where Veronica left her mark.  All in all, they’d completely blown their place of employment to pieces as Tony said, “You think we’ll get called into HR for this?”

Bucky froze in terror though as his scan of the room concluded.  Because as they’d finished taking everything in, the smoke cleared enough to see two dark objects on the other side of the bullpen – Rumlow and Rogers.    

“Where are they?”  Rogers hit Rumlow again, over and over in the face as his cheeks were puffy and bloody and bruising now from Steve’s fists.

Rumlow grunted but spit out, “Your girl’s screams were pathetic, Rogers.”

Natasha was Steve’s blind spot.  She always had been and always would be.  He fists stopped as he froze instantly.  Rumlow had gurgled out the words.  He spit out the red saliva in his mouth as he stared up at Rogers, “You heard me.  Your girl…Romanoff.  You should have heard her scream for you.  I had to listen to it for 21 fucking months.  Drove me insane.  She was so pathetic, calling out for you.  But you weren’t there, were you?  You weren’t there for her…or your kid.”

Steve saw a flash of red, but he couldn’t move as the wrath boiled over inside of him. 

Rumlow knew what his weakness was and used it to his advantage.  Steve was blind with rage right now, thinking of Natasha in captivity, screaming for him.  And of him not being there for her.  Rumlow pulled a gun with his free hand from the back of his pants.

Tony saw it happening as Bucky shouted, “Steve look out!”

Steve slowly turned his head towards his brother, but it was too late.  The shot rang out as the gun was fired at point blank range from Rumlow’s hand. 

And then Steve fell to the ground.

* * *

 **Present Day –** Safehouse

The Task-Force Compound…that’s what Sam and Thor and everyone had officially started calling it that evening…was quiet compared to the previous three hours. 

Three hours.  That’s how long it’d been since Natasha had run with Fury and everyone.  That’s how long Steve and Tony and Bucky had been away from them. 

It was late and most everyone had settled into their bedrooms, collapsing from the crash of adrenaline finally leaving their system, and from sheer exhaustion.  But Pepper and Wanda had fallen asleep in two of the recliners in the living area, and Natasha had fallen asleep on the couch with Peter laying by her.

Once the initial awkwardness and nerves settled, Peter was drawn to Natasha.  She was like a fairy-tale story come to life.  He’d heard funny stories about Sam, and so many others about all of his parents’ friends over the years.  But that all paled in comparison to how many times he’d heard about the pretty red-haired lady who carried Uncle Steve’s heart in her hands.  All the times he’d heard his Uncle Steve calling for ‘Nat.’  And all the times he’d seen his mom looking sad at old photos of the same pretty red-haired lady.  She’d always smiled when he caught her and told her son, “I just miss my friend, honey.”

And tonight, Peter bulldozed through any walls and nerves and hesitancy that Natasha had over the last couple of hours.  Because that was the beauty of children.  If they saw good in you and trusted you, that was all that mattered.  And sometimes a bulldozer was just what was needed. 

A half hour ago, Wanda brought him down from their room.  Pepper had already fallen asleep in her chair.  She had told Fury there was no way she was going to bed without knowing what was going on with Tony and Steve and Bucky.  That was Wanda and Natasha’s exact thinking too.  But Wanda was trying to stay calm for Peter, and honestly, she didn’t want to leave him in a new bedroom on his own. 

So, she brought him downstairs and smiled at Natasha as she nudged her son’s shoulders, “It’s okay, Honey.  You can ask her.”

Peter drew a book from behind him and held it out to Natasha like she would automatically know what to do with it.  Natasha drew her knees up on the couch and pursed her lips at him, “What do you have there, Peter?”  Peter blinked.  He looked up at his mom, and she nodded before he turned back in his fuzzy green pajamas, “It’s a book.”

Natasha smirked now.  Yes, he was just the type of bulldozer needed between the two very worried and scared women, trying their best to keep it together.  “Do…you want me to read it to you, Peter?”

Peter blinked again and nodded along like she should know this already.  Natasha’s smirk turned into a smile.  The kid may have been a blunt and filterless child, like any other four-year old.  But Natasha liked to think of him as having an extremely dry sense of humor, which fit her like a glove.  She patted the seat next to her, and he jumped up, nuzzling…and yes, bulldozing right into the side of her, “What’s the name of the book, Peter?”

He yawned as Wanda took a seat in the recliner nearest them and watched, “I Love You Stinky Face.  Daddy and Uncle Steve read it to me all the time.  Sometimes Uncle Steve calls me that.”

Natasha took the book in her hand and tried to figure out what to do with her other arm.  There wasn’t really anything else to do with it as she draped it around Peter’s shoulders.  She ran her thumb over the hardcover of the book, and she had to bite her lip.

Steve had read this book, and had read it a lot by the sounds of it.  He’d read it and touched it and probably held Peter in his arms, just like Natasha was right now.  He’d called his nephew Stinky Face and her heart clenched as she tried to stop her brain from going down the incredibly steep dive of emotions.  She’d missed it.  She’d missed Peter’s birth and four years of kisses and stories and cuddles.

And then her heart mocked her, as it went into a territory that Natasha forbade it to, internally.  She shut her eyes, thinking of an image of her and Steve, reading to their own four-year old son or daughter.  Of Steve calling their own child Stinky Face.  Natasha felt a tear run down her cheek as Peter nudged her, “It’s okay, Nat.  It’s not a scary story.”

Peter apparently decided to call her Nat…just like his Uncle Steve did. 

Natasha opened her eyes and took a couple of breaths.  Wanda looked at her, having a pretty good idea of the haunting thoughts probably going through her head.  Wanda mouthed to Natasha if she was okay, and if she wanted her to take Peter in her chair.  Natasha took another breath and shut her eyes again, trying to collect herself and shook her head.  She told Wanda, and more importantly she told herself silently, that she could do this.

“It’s not scary, huh?  You sound awfully brave, Peter.  Will you protect me if I do get scared?” She said with a little quiver in her voice.

Peter nodded his head into Natasha’s side and yawned again, “Daddy says I’m brave too, but Mommy says I’m freckles like Daddy and Uncle Steve.  Like when I jumped off the counter and hurt my foot.”

“Freckles?” Natasha asked curiously.  Peter murmured, “Freckles,” but Wanda smiled and mouthed the word ‘reckless’ to Natasha.  The beauty of a child.  Within the span of two minutes, Peter had distracted and drawn Natasha into a conversation with him.  And it all eased and soothed some of the pain pouring out of her heart.

Natasha opened the book as he yawned even bigger into her side.  She read through the first two pages, and looked over at Wanda, who was now asleep sitting up.  She read through the next eight pages, as she noticed Peter starting to drift off.  She didn’t make it to the end.  She made it to the second to the last page when she drifted off too.  With Natasha’s head leaning on the back of the sofa and tilted towards Peter, she held him securely in her arms. 

Yes, the task-force compound was quiet…eerily so, except for Sam and Fury and Sarah.  Who stood in the kitchen over a pot of coffee and listened quietly to a radio station:

 

* * *

**News Report:**

CE:   I’m Christine Everhart with Marvel’s 616 Live Broadcast.  This just in.  We have breaking news at this late hour.  I regret to inform you that we are receiving early reports that the FBI’s New York Headquarters building, located in downtown Manhattan in Federal Plaza, has been under attack this evening. 

Early reports show the main entrance was breached several hours ago.  And one of the upper floors seems to have been the main target.  We’re going to send it over to our reporter on site.  Karen, can you hear me?

KP:  Christine, yes, I’m here.  This is Karen Page, live on the scene.  Christine I’m going to try to depict the chaos that has unfolded around Federal Plaza tonight.  I can’t get within a city block of the FBI building anymore, but I made it close earlier.  Glass was everywhere at the front entrance.  It looked like it had been almost blown up.  Smoke and fire were pouring out of the entrance and out of an upper floor of the building.  And at this hour, smoke is still billowing out as paper and other debris continue to trickle down to the plaza.  We are unsure of the floor number still, but I know the special enforcement units are higher up in the building.  One has to wonder if tonight’s attack has something to do with those specialized units. 

CE:  Karen, can you describe any reports on if anyone was in the building at the late hour or what the goal of the attack was?

KP:  Christine, law enforcement officials still aren’t taking questions at this time.  I can tell you, they looked just as shocked as everyone else on the street when they were pushing us back.  The good news is that the fire department was here quick and were amazing like they always are.  They seemed to be able to contain the fire to the main point of attack, preventing it from spreading to other floors.  Engineers are on the scene, making sure the building overall, is structurally sound.

CE:  Karen, is there anything else that our listeners should know?

KP:  Yes, Christine, I did hear some of the firefighters mentioning bodies on the floor they were on.  I haven’t seen them bring anyone out yet, but you would presume if there were any survivors, the firemen would have carried them out right away.  One of the firemen mentioned weapons and black tactical gear before we were removed from the premise.

CE:  Karen, wonderful work as always.  From the sound of it, there are potential casualties on the scene.  Possibly even FBI agents as their building was attacked by unknown forces tonight.  Karen stay safe down there as we’ll check in with you again, within the hour.  This is Christine Everhart with Marvel’s 616 Live Broadcast, signing off for now.  We are your eyes and ears when you can’t be.  And we will keep you abreast throughout the late hours tonight and early morning hour’s tomorrow as this situation continues to unfold. 

* * *

 

The sound of the radio switch being flipped, echoed in the kitchen as Sarah spoke, “Well, I think _that_ is doing no one any good right now.  Nick, how long has it been since you left the FBI?”

Nick Fury had become good acquaintances with Sarah Rogers over the years.  Which made this period of waiting and wondering all the more difficult.  Fury sighed as he looked at Sam, “A little over three hours.  Sarah…I…”

She shook her head, “Let’s not do _that_ either.  There’s no reason to go down the road of thinking the worst right now when we don’t have to.”  Sarah went off to sit at the table with her coffee.  She, like the three women sleeping, couldn’t bring herself to go up to a bedroom right now. 

Neither could Sam or Fury.  “Fury, Sarah’s strong.  Stronger than you or me.  She’s doing okay right now.  Trust me.”  Sam’s words were trying to soothe both of them as Sam drummed his fingers on the counter and continued, “What are you going to do, Fury?  This thing is in the public eye now, and we’re all underground.  It’s a lot different than hiding out and pretending like everything is still normal at the FBI.”

Fury stared at Sam, “Sitwell may have gotten a jump on us tonight.  But he also played his hand quickly.  he’s had to go underground too.  My CIA contact is telling me he didn’t make it to that Political Fundraiser with Ross.  I think it’s time I clue Ross in on what’s going on.”

“Fury, do you think that’s a good idea?  I mean, I don’t think the Secretary of State should actually know where we all are.”

Fury grinned, “Oh he’s not going to know the _exact_ details.  He needs to be negligent on this…Ross is an asshole, but he’s not a traitor.  And we’re going to need his power and help, if Poseidon’s reach goes as far and wide as it seems to.  Plus, Ross and I go back.  Way back…all the way to our Vietnam days.  I think it’s time I bring out our old method of communication to avoid any bugs Sitwell may have left in his office.”

It turns out the radio they’d been listening to…wasn’t just any radio.  It was the radio from Fury’s office, that he was sure to grab before they ran from the FBI.  It was a radio, that also…had a secret Morse Code telegraph machine in the back compartment, that was revealed as Fury slid the cover from the rear side of it. 

Fury worked quickly to set up the wire-tapping instruments and the finger switches to the telegraph, “Wilson, how much do you remember about Morse Code from Quantico?”

Wilson chuckled, “Only what we learned in the history books.  We only practiced it a few times…never had any need to use it in the military or here with technology nowadays.”

Fury grinned, “Well, looks like everyone is going to get a lesson on it tomorrow.  Because it may be old, but it’s reliable and under the radar.  Which is exactly what we need right now.”

Fury and his mind games…

His communication would have to wait though, because they heard the door through the rear garage opening, that led right into the kitchen.  Sam’s hand immediately went to his gun, but he put it back in his holster as the door creaked open.  Sam let out a huge sigh of relief, “Goddamn son of a bitch.  Aren’t you guys a site for sore eyes.”

Sam went over to pat Tony on the shoulders as he hobbled into the kitchen area, carrying Veronica behind him as he set it on the ground.  Sam went onto Bucky next, and gave him a hug, as his hand lingered on the metal sleeve.  He saw the blood on the sleeve as Bucky took it off as he looked at the big gun that he set down next to Veronica.  And then Sam turned his head to the last man that stepped through the door. 

“Steve, thank god you guys are all okay.”  Sam pulled him into a quick hug too and then glanced down at his hand, “Is that a shield?”

Steve nodded and looked exhausted.  They all did.  They were covered in grime and sweat and splatters of blood from the fire and smoke and battle they’d been in.  Sarah ran over to bring her boys into her arms, “Hey Mom.  You doing okay?”

Bucky’s words were met with her tears as she finally let the worry she’d been feeling all evening out, “We’re all okay here.  Are you?  Steve?  Tony?  Are you all okay?”

She went over to pat Steve’s arms and face down, looking him over as only a mother could do.  “Yeah, Mom.  We’re here and in one piece.”

“Where’s Natasha?”

“Where’s Pepper?”

“Where’s Wanda?”

Three tired men.  Three men looking for the loves of their life.  Three men who asked the same thing at the exact same time.

Sam grinned nodding to the living area as Tony looked at him and Fury, and smiled, “I see you all finished setting up this place.  Good job on the digs.”

Tony and Bucky woke Wanda and Pepper at the same time.  Hugs and tears and sighs of relief were exchanged.  Steve groaned as he took his jacket off, leaving him in his bullet proof vest and shirt underneath as he made his way over to the couch.  He shut his eyes, thanking silently that his hopes and wishes were answered…And that what he was seeing was real.  Natasha was here and safe. 

He paused though as he drew near, seeing that she wasn’t alone as she slept on the couch. 

The site of Natasha curled up on the couch, with Peter tucked into her side, hit him hard. 

It hit him with a warmth and a stabbing pain at the same time.  For all the reasons Natasha felt earlier...  What had been lost as Natasha missed four years of this.  Four years of watching Peter grow.  Four years of babysitting whenever they could.  Four years of spoiling and kissing and cuddling and being the best Aunt and Uncle, Peter could ever dream of. 

But the darker parts weighed even heavier in his heart as Steve thought of what else had been lost.  Not just four years, but _seven_.  Seven years of love and proposals and engagements.  Seven years of marriage and honeymoons and houses.  Seven years of kids.  Their own kid.  Their own child that they’d never meet. 

But Natasha was here.  And the smallest part of the voice in Steve’s head, told him, ‘She didn’t run.  She stayed.  She’s here.’

It was small.  But oh, was it powerful.  The small notion that this time it was different.  This time, she was _here_ to stay.  Steve let out a shaky breath and went around to the front of the couch and kneeled down.  He put his hand on her cheek, brushing his thumb under her eye as they fluttered open. 

She hadn’t been asleep long, but wondered if she was dreaming now.  But she looked at Steve’s dirty and bloody face as she turned to kiss the inside of his palm, and a tear came out of her eye.  She looked down and worked her body out of Peter’s hold on her.  He fell behind her now, sprawling out on the couch completely as she nudged her body to the front. 

Natasha whispered, “Please tell me you’re here, and I’m not dreaming.”  Steve put his forehead on her lap, taking in a breath and kissing her jeans over her knees as he hushed back, “I was going to say the same thing, Nat.”

Bucky came over to pick Peter up as he winked at Natasha.  Remembering their conversation from earlier, Natasha grinned at him, “Looks like you didn’t pull any punches tonight either, Bucky.”

He smirked, “Damn straight, Romanoff.  Glad to see everyone here is okay.  Thanks for reading to Peter.”

Fury and Sarah and Sam…Bucky and Peter and Wanda…And Tony and Pepper had gone to bed almost as quickly as the three men made it into the kitchen.  They were all exhausted from an awful and shocking and painful evening.  They could talk and plan and prepare tomorrow, and just focus on their collective thanks that everyone was here, in the task-force compound, safe and sound. 

And suddenly Steve and Natasha were alone.  She ran her fingers around his neck and leaned over to kiss the crown of his head.  He breathed into her arms as she encircled him.  His hands ran up her jeans and behind her to rest on the small of her back and he let out a shaky breath.  She opened her legs, letting him fall deeper into the cradle of her hold as he kissed her stomach, “God Nat…I can’t…I’m just so relieved you’re okay.”

Steve’s voice was filled with an edge, that was almost frenzied, as she drew circles on his neck, feeling him hold her tighter.  Natasha’s hands ran to his front, and she pulled away, curious to see why Steve’s vest was uneven on one side. 

He shifted, finally pulling off his vest as what had remained hidden, fell into her lap.  Her journal.  The journal of all of her memories and thoughts and pain.  Of all of her longing and love and regret.  Of all of their tears, blended together throughout the pages.  She ran her fingers over it as his laced into hers, “Natasha, somehow I think your journal saved me tonight.”

“Steve, what are you saying?” 

He kissed her hand in his, “Some of the bullets Poseidon were using were the ones we use to call cop-killers.”  Her breath hitched, knowing exactly what he was talking about.  The type of bullet that could pierce through a bullet-proof vest if shot at close enough range. 

He flipped the journal over, and Natasha saw it.  There was a slight indentation in the leather.  A small tear.  “The bullet made it through the metal plating, but just barely.  And it was stopped by the journal from going farther.  I don’t know how much damage it would have caused if it wasn’t there…but all I know is that it _was_ there.”

Their fingers ran over the small puncture in the leather as a couple of her tears fell onto it. 

“Steve, I know we have so much to say.  There are things I’m afraid to remember, and I know you’re scared too.  And I know we have a lot of trust to rebuild.  But right now, if there is one thing that I want you to know…It’s that I’ll never…”

Natasha drew her hand around to the front of his face and tilted his chin up to her, “Steve, look at me.  And please hear me…Steve, I will _never_ run from you again.  And I will do whatever I have to, in order to prove that to you.”

Sometimes, the simplest of words can speak the loudest of truths. 

There were conversations and more grieving and truly accepting what had happened, to occur.  There were harsh truths to confront.  There was a long road and a lot of work that both Steve and Natasha had ahead of them. 

But right now, they finally saw each other, and were listening with an open heart and mind to one another.  Sure, the panicked state of worry they both were in, hoping the other one was safe added to the desperation in their embrace.  And sure, Bucky’s conversation with her earlier about trust, and Peter’s innocence, had torn through some of the walls Natasha had up. 

But this…this was more than all of that. 

This was Steve and Natasha finally looking at each other, both alive and safe.  This was them hearing their words, and feeling everything that was said in their hearts.  This was them finally, taking a tiny step, but an incredibly important one, on the road ahead.  On the road forward. 

Steve had found her and saved her from a dark corner of hell a month ago.  They’d been struggling to swim, and they were almost drowning in their denial, over the last month.  And tonight, late enough into the evening, when it could officially be called the next day, they’d found a way to see each other and not run.  They’d found a way to breathe through the pain in their hearts, and lean into the trust that had started to spark once again between them. 

Steve had found her, and Natasha had finally stayed.  She had stayed in this safehouse as they held each other in the safety of their arms. 

And Steve finally, found the emotional courage to do what he’d been avoiding, outside of the desperate departing kiss from hours ago.  Steve looked at Natasha, and lifted his hands to her face as hers ran through his beard.

He pulled himself toward her as she lowered herself to him.  He breathed a sigh of relief as he finally kissed the love of his life.  Her tears fell onto his face as his beard ran along her skin. 

Their lips met in a patient and trusting way.    

It wasn’t desperate.  It wasn’t frantic, from thinking there might not be another.  It was soothing and loving as their mouths met, knowing…and _trusting_ there would be more.  It was the first time in a long time, they both were acknowledging the pain, but also the deep and endless love locked away in their hearts.  And it was the first time in a very, very long time, they both were thinking about what could possibly be ahead, instead of what was behind them.

They were in a safehouse tonight.

They were in a safehouse, that physically protected everyone inside it, from the dangers knocking at the door.  And they were in a safehouse in their hearts, as they kissed and felt the love and security between them again. 

* * *

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh – that was actually kind of an emotional roller coaster for me, writing that scene with Poseidon. This ‘fight’ at the FBI building was not the climactic scene of the story by any means…just a tease, pushing our Scooby Gang further back on the ropes. We will see more of how the scene at the FBI unfolded at the end, next chapter.
> 
> I was going to cut it off with Steve falling in the FBI building after his encounter with Rumlow…But, I couldn’t. I couldn’t do that to you all right now. I guess even my angst loving heart beats sometimes, right? 
> 
> Maybe they can finally get to talking here soon, right? 
> 
> The 7 year ago scene was hard, and I was pretty emotional at the end of it. 
> 
> Funny sidenote – the ‘metal’ that Tony developed for Steve’s shield is actually a thing. For real. It’s made out of a type of aluminum and has pockets of air in it that surround metallic spheres, that help absorb energy and deflect / destroy bullets if they hit it. Its slang name is metal foam and isn’t really widespread on the market but it is used in space shuttle material. I read some articles doing research on it that were written over the last few years. 
> 
> After 60 minutes of research / reading on random metals, I literally yelled at myself, “Kat, enough diving down random rabbit holes of research…get back to writing!” I hope you got a kick of out Bucky’s gun, Veronica, and Steve’s shield.
> 
> MWAH – I have cried several times over the last week and a half, from messages I’ve received on Tumblr, and your oh so kind words here on AO3. This story…these characters…and the time and love that you have all invested into it with me, mean the absolute world to me. 
> 
> Come follow me on Tumblr @eightieskat to chat about the story, anything Marvel, or anything in general!
> 
> I love hearing from readers, so please let me know your thoughts. Have a wonderful week! 
> 
> Cheers! ~~ Kat


	23. The Long Road to Forgiveness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting this out in time for your weekend! The 12 year ago timeline is absent and will return next chapter. 
> 
> So, my head went somewhere kind of trippy with this chapter. It focuses on the two main timelines here - Russia and the Present. But the present will have flashbacks. Two storylines in two timelines…and two sets of song lyrics intermixed, that I absolutely could not get out of my head while writing this one. 
> 
> Another smut scene below – hopefully this one doesn’t leave you with the sad feeling that the last one probably did. 
> 
> There’s a note at the end, and there is an updated timeline below (updates in red text). 
> 
> I hope you enjoy the chapter and image board below!

Memories & Reality

I do not own any of this or any part of Marvel or the MCU

Chapter 23 – The Long Road to Forgiveness

* * *

_One may see where a ripple begins, but not where it ends._

_But whether it is ripples in time, space, or distance, there is a purpose.  For there is a time and purpose to everything.  And if one finds themselves in darkness or light, or in silence or sound, let them look back in hopes to remember.  To remember that yes, there is a time and purpose, for everything._

_For mistake and betrayal.  For loss and love.  For anger and hate.  For acceptance and forgiveness.  A time and purpose, for everything._

* * *

**_21 Months Ago_ –**

_“Come on, stay on.”_

_Natasha’s distressed voice echoed throughout the dark and tiny bathroom.  Her palm smacked the overhead florescent light again, causing it to flicker above the dingy mirror she stood in front of._

_This was not the plan.  It never was, when it came to her life.  When it came to Steve.  Her and Clint returned from Kazakhstan earlier.  And Ivan and Oksana were irate from the millions upon millions of dollars that were now gone._

_And Clint and Natasha’s **initial** plan was successful.  _

_They’d successfully stopped the trade deal, killed numerous Poseidon terrorists in the process, covered their tracks with the help of their mercenary allies, and returned back to Ivan and Oksana’s compound.  Most importantly, they’d prevented an astronomical flow of money from going into Poseidon’s hands, which would delay their plan of attack._

_Now, the next step was all set._

_Clint and Natasha, with the help of the mercenaries, would fake their deaths, and do what they could to stop Poseidon from afar.  Natasha had written in her journal before she went to Kazakhstan, that she wished in her heart, that Steve would somehow wait for her after she’d done the unthinkable.  After she said goodbye.  That was still true, after Clint and she were successful and returned home.  And it was still true as she told Clint they could finish their final step in leaving, tomorrow._

_Natasha had something else she needed to do tonight.  She was high off of the energy from their successful mission (coup).  And she felt the best she had in years.  Natasha and Clint had done something right.  Something good.  Something that officially stopped Poseidon from being able to move forward for the time being._

_Nothing stops a terrorist organization as quickly as an abrupt termination to the flow of money._

_That’s what her and Clint had done.  And Natasha felt proud.  So proud, that she wanted to rebrand herself.  She wanted to permanently say, ‘Fuck You,’ to her handlers.  To Poseidon.  To her life.  To everything that was keeping Clint from a chance at a life.  And from everything that was keeping her and Steve apart._

_Maybe it was foolish and maybe it was the adrenaline.  Maybe it was her going a little delirious from their plan actually working in Kazakhstan.  And maybe she actually started to have a little hope.  Hope that her wishes in her journal might be more than just a dream of a foolish child who had a glimpse at happiness. That her and Steve might find their way back to one another someday.  Whatever it was, her mind was set._

_So, tomorrow her and Clint would finalize their deaths and escape from Ivan and Oksana._

_But tonight?  She was taking her body back.  Natasha couldn’t replace the 14 circular tattoos completely.  She didn’t have time to get rid of the trident, hammer and sickle, or two-headed eagle.  And she definitely couldn’t erase the scars.  But she could take her body back, symbolically._

_Taking something back.  That’s what this was about._

_It was a small symbol, sure.  And maybe some would even find it foolish or stupid.  But to Natasha, this was more than just reclaiming her body.  She was reclaiming an energy and purpose.  She was clearing some of the red in her ledger and standing proud tonight.  And for the first time, in such a long time, she felt deserving._

_So no, she would no longer have words like Traitor, Treason, Poseidon and Whore staining her body.  She would no longer feel violated by her handlers and Poseidon, who’d sunk their jagged teeth into her decades ago.  Instead, Natasha would take her body back.  And she knew just the man back in the states, to alter the 14 tattoos, by replacing the old words for new ones._

_Abraham Erskine was a friendly older gentleman who’d been around in this lifetime.  He’d managed to live to his older age, by staying quiet and keeping his ear to the ground.  He was a man who knew way more than he ever let on, about Natasha and Clint’s upbringing.  And he was a man who unfortunately, found himself as Ivan and Oksana’s commissioned ‘Ink Man,’ who’d been reluctantly branding Poseidon’s spies in America, over the last decade._

_Dr. Erskine was what he went by on the streets, but he hardly had a medical license.  It was his nickname by trade because of his impeccable skill and craft in regards to art on the human body.  He kept quiet for years, didn’t ask questions, and in return, Ivan and Oksana paid him lucratively.  And at first, over a decade ago, the money was good, and it seemed okay.  Ivan and Oksana may have just been some weird occult leaders or gang members, branding their followers._

_That’s what he told himself in the beginning at least._

_So, for years he was the tattoo artist who branded each and every spy under Ivan and Oksana.  But as the years wore on, Erskine couldn’t stop himself from hearing more and more in passing.  And the more he heard, the more he couldn’t stop himself from realizing what the tattoos really meant.  He couldn’t stop himself from knowing, the dark forces that Ivan and Oksana represented._

_But for a while, he kept his mouth shut and stayed alive._

_Until finally, the day arrived when he couldn’t stay silent anymore._

_Erskine finally refused one day, after seeing the scarring on Natasha’s back.  She’d returned to Ivan and Oksana recently.  Natasha was forced down onto the table as Ivan’s malicious tone ran through the air, “The dark circles aren’t enough for this one.  Little Yelena always wanted to be different from us, so she will be branded as such. **Natasha** needs additional reminders of where she came from and who she is.”  _

_Erskine took in the 28 angry and raw burn scars on her back.  And then he looked in her eyes and saw enough defiance and pain in the hues of green to make him crack.  He knew.  He’d known for quite some time.  And he saw all the pain and regret behind the bravery she tried to display.  It was too much and it was his breaking point.  No, he would not be putting words like Traitor, Treason, Poseidon and Whore on her._

_Instead, Erskine refused, recognizing the sick obsession in Ivan’s voice and Oksana’s stare.  No matter the consequences, Erskine walked away.  That was his first and only warning as they demanded his silence or he’d be silenced, permanently._

_Of course, Ivan and Oksana found another person to come in and finish the job on Natasha’s back.  It was inevitable at that time._

_But that wasn’t the point._

_The point was that Dr. Erskine, a mere tattoo artist, found it within himself to stand up and say no.  He said no in the only way he could.  Bravery isn’t always about grand gestures.  It sometimes is about finding it within yourself to complete the smallest of acts because it’s right, no matter the risk._

_And Natasha was amazed.  She was astonished that a man, who had no more to gain than his own ability to sleep at night, had actually refused to help Ivan and Oksana.  It was simply something people **never** did.  _

_Erskine’s act stuck with her over the years so much, that she reached out to him before she went on her mission to Kazakhstan.  She asked if he’d help her take her body back in her own way.  She said she’d see him after she got back.  And he was only too happy to help.  In his own way, he could clear a little red in his ledger by helping._

_But here Natasha stood, about to go off and meet Erskine.  Here she stood in a dank and dark bathroom, with a light flickering overhead, because apparently where she was at in life, couldn’t afford janitors or reliable electricity.  How fitting._

_She hit the light above her again as it finally stopped flashing for a few seconds.  Natasha looked down._

_“Shit.”_

_The word was only natural because here she stood, holding a pregnancy test in her hand.  She’d sensed it, feeling a little nauseous two months ago, but she told herself it was her conscience eating away for how things were left with Steve.  From the goodbye and his assured pain that he was dealing with.  But the nausea became a little more consistent and prominent.  And then the prodding in her brain was a little stronger a month ago._

_But Natasha pushed any fleeting thoughts away, telling herself it was the pending mission in Kazakhstan.  Her and Clint had **so much** riding on this.  They needed to be successful, not only because they were planning on escaping after, but because the safety was at stake for her friends and loved ones, and so many other innocent people.  Putting a pause on Poseidon’s planning, meant they had more time to figure out what the hell the terrorists were actually plotting.  _

_It meant maybe they could stop them permanently._

_Yes, her nausea was surely just nerves or guilt or worry.  It was nothing more._

_But Kazakhstan grew nearer, and Natasha felt other things.  She felt tired.  Her breasts felt a little sore.  She’d taken her pulse several times before, during, and after the mission in Kazakhstan.  It was higher than normal.  Natasha knew her body so well from all it had been through over the years, and deep down she knew something was different._

_But the mission came first.  So, it came and went, and on the way back, the nagging became more of a constant throbbing inside her mind.  She didn’t just know something was different. **She knew.**_

_It couldn’t be._

_What she feared couldn’t be the case.  Natasha sat quietly, staring out the plane window on their flight back to the U.S., as Clint kept talking with her quietly about what to do when they got back.  And she wasn’t listening to a single word._

_Instead, her brain was flooded with Intra Uterine Device facts and questions.  Wasn’t her IUD supposed to be effective when she saw Steve, three months ago?  Didn’t an IUD have a prevention rate of almost 100 percent?_

_But then she started questioning how long her IUD was actually effective for.  Was it five, seven, or nine years?  She only had one partner in the previous 12 years, so it really hadn’t been a concern to her with Steve being absent from her life._

_And then the weekend at the cabin happened._

_And honestly, there wasn’t even a thought when she’d told Steve that nothing had changed when they first made love.  Because it’d never been a concern for her or them.  Natasha was too worried about the pending heartache that would end that weekend.  And she was too consumed by the love and passion that led up to their painful goodbye, to even think about anything else at all._

_But now, clearly something **had** changed.  Whether they somehow proved the odds or prevention rates wrong, or the expiration date on her IUD had come and gone without her realizing, it didn’t really make a difference right now.  Nothing else mattered as Natasha stood in the depressing bathroom, staring down at the cheap plastic stick.  A stick that was screaming at her with its plus sign of positivity.   _

_How in the fuck was this happening now?_

_Timing, always seemed to have it out for Natasha and Steve.  But she took a breath, because time right now, was of the essence.  She and Clint were at the edge, ready to run and escape.  This stick didn’t change that.  In fact, it only made it more necessary.  So, she pushed down the fear and worry, along with thoughts of the life growing inside of her.  Just like she’d pushed down the awareness of symptoms that’d reared their head over the last one, two, and really…three months._

_If anything, holding proof of something so pure and innocent in her hands, only made her plan even more necessary.  Natasha was taking her body back tonight because it was more symbolic than ever, of taking her life back._

_Natasha wrapped the stick in toilet paper, shoved it deep down in the trash, washed her hands and took a big swig of water from her bottle as she walked out the bathroom door.  She headed to Dr. Erskine’s place, knowing that the last word he would replace on her would be the one for Treason.  And in its place, she would have him put,_ _‘Ребенок.’  The Russian word for child._

* * *

 **Present Day –** Task-Force Compound

_Hello darkness, my old friend_

_I’ve come to talk with you again_

_Because a vision softly creeping_

_Left its seeds while I was sleeping_

_***_

Natasha held Steve in the dark, being so thankful they were both alive.  That he was safe.  And she felt all the warmth and love from their kiss.  But as he rested his head against her stomach for a moment, memories creeped into her head.  Natasha couldn’t stop as she recalled the beginning of the end of her journey, all starting with what happened 21 months ago.

It was like Steve could feel the vice on Natasha’s heart, as they held onto each other.  But before he could say anything, Steve winced from where’d he’d been shot in the vest.    

Natasha pulled away, frowning.  She knew he was in pain.  She could see the weariness and exhaustion all over Steve’s face as she whispered, “Come here, Soldier.  I may not be at full-strength, but I think I can help with this.” 

Her fingers trailed over his beard and down his neck, running over his collarbone and shoulders.  Steve closed his eyes and took a breath, feeling every gentle touch of hers.  Natasha’s forehead creased as she looked at him, and began caressing his sides, until she reached where he’d been shot.

This was an old song and dance they were playing right now, and it was more than music to both of their ears.  Her fingers ran down his T-shirt to the hem as his eyes opened again, “I just want to see, Steve.”  Natasha’s touch, felt so comforting that Steve didn’t try to fight it as she lifted his shirt.

And there it was.  The reality behind the bullet, her journal, and his vest. 

Deep purple and dark red.  Angry colors blaring from his body, already displaying painful bruising over his chest.  The mark was about the size of a grapefruit right now, and she guessed it would grow twice as large by morning.

Sucking in a little breath before reaching forward, Natasha ran her fingers along his skin.  It was the most intimate they’d been…with Steve almost bowing into her touch as he scooted even closer on his knees, in between her legs. 

Steve would share with her later what’d happened - how close he had come to dying several times that evening.  Right now though, the sound of silence was more than enough.  Because Natasha could tell he needed this.  She needed this too. 

The truth was, Natasha and Steve weren’t just the loves of each other’s life.  They weren’t just each other’s best friends.  Beyond all of that, they’d been each other’s supports and sounding boards, and yes, even punching bags when they needed to be, as they worked together in the FBI. 

They were partners in every sense of the word.

Being an FBI agent was incredibly difficult, scary and challenging at times.  And when one of them was struggling?  Well, that’s what partners were for.  Natasha comforted and grounded Steve.  And Steve was an adhesive holding her together through every battle and punch and close call. 

They were each other’s rocks when they needed it the most.  A constant that they could rely on always, as they fought side-by-side with each other for five years.  Yes, this was an old and familiar tune, that’d been repeatedly played over the years.  But Steve and Natasha were only too happy to have the chance to replay it right now. 

Because over the last seven years, they found themselves attempting their recovery and relief, very much on their own at night.  Steve had to find a way to rub his sore shoulder and back on his own.  Natasha had to put balm and salve on cuts, and at times stitch herself up all alone.  And they both lied in empty beds at night, wishing they had the security of each other to ease their physical pain from the job.   

Being alone wasn’t the worst part though.

What was worse, was knowing what it was like _before_.  Steve and Natasha knew the added comfort that came from each other’s healing touches.  From the security of one another’s lips and hands.  And because they knew how good it was before, it only made the longing and suffering that much worse, _after_. 

The both felt that relief deep in their hearts right now, knowing they weren’t alone anymore. 

Natasha’s caresses ran up Steve’s ribcage and along his sternum.  Her fingers splayed as they travelled over his chest, resting right where his heart sounded underneath.   She leaned forward, kissing along the mottled coloring on his skin, and it felt like a blanket of warmth to both of them. 

Finding Natasha alive was an answer to begging pleas that Steve never thought possible.  But how Steve found her, filled him with such agony.  They’d both been suffering for a month as her broken body began to recover.  As he learned the truth about her scar, and about their child.  And as they both waded through their grief. 

Hands can be the source of immense pain, and had been for both of them through the years.  Hands had cuffed each other in two shocking moments in their history.  Hands had broken glasses from a result of their uncontrollable pain.  And hands had hurt Natasha’s stomach in the darkness at night as she found an outlet for her internal torture.

But hands can heal too. 

Now in the stilled silence, on the first floor of a dark warehouse that was turned into a compound of protection, Steve and Natasha’s hands were _finally_ healing each other again.  And with Natasha’s hands and lips on his skin? 

Well, it was the best Steve had felt in over two years. 

It wasn’t just the heart pounding relief that she was alive.  It was the familiarity of their post-mission and hard-days routine.  It was the familiarity of what once was.  And it was the reminder of how incredible they were together.  Steve wanted to be swallowed up by her touch as he wrapped his arms tighter around her waist, “God, Nat.  I missed this…I missed this _so much_ , that it almost hurts.”

Natasha knew exactly how he felt.  Because it was all inside her too as she sank back into the couch, and let Steve’s head fall to her stomach.  He pressed his cheek against her as her hands ran along his triceps, until they were once again around his neck.  She shut her eyes, smelling the overwhelming scent of smoke from the fire on him, but not caring at all. 

Natasha felt his trembling subside as his breathing steadied.  The calming of her soldier.  Just as it once was and always should be.  Steve fell into a tranquil state.  As her chest rose and fell underneath him, she drew soft patterns on his neck while running fingers through his hair.  Yes, it was the most intimate they’d been with each other as the sound of silence surrounded them again. 

Steve had fallen asleep as her breathing fell in line with his.  They needed to lie down in a bed, and they would get there in a short while.  But right now, she wanted to soak up the feeling while it was quiet. 

This old dance of theirs made her feel like she had purpose right now.  Like some things maybe never changed.  It made her feel like she could help him as much as she needed him to help her.  

And it was the best Natasha had felt in over two years, too.     

* * *

The following morning was the complete opposite of the quiet night before.

The warehouse had quickly shifted into a jack of all trades building. 

Betty was working in her and Bruce’s room.  Laura and Sarah were bonding quickly over both being nurses.  They watched Peter and planned out the where’s and how’s, if anything medically related came up during their stay.  And Pepper had faked an overseas trip for Stark Industries, to avoid any suspicion from Justin Hammer and Obediah Stane.  She was focused on monitoring all the news sites to see if anyone had any real leads from the attack at the FBI. 

And was there _ever,_ a lot to monitor. 

Christine Everhart and Karen Page’s reporting from the night before was still going on.  But every other major news outlet was reporting on it as well. 

_‘Attack on America,’_

_‘FBI Asst. Director and Team Missing: Suspected Dead,’_

_‘Mystery Forces Come at Night,’_

_And the most blatantly ghoulish headline that Pepper had read: ‘Numerous Body Bags Carried from FBI:  Still Unknown if the Dead are Friend or Foe.’_

The ‘guests’ had all hunkered down for an undetermined length of stay.  No one knew how long they would be at the warehouse, so they tried to plan for long-term. 

“It’s better to plan for a lengthy stay and have structure, than it is to have one foot out the door.  That will only cause distractions and frantic thoughts.”  Sarah told Bucky and Steve this morning, when she calmed their nerves about Peter and her and everyone else being there. 

She smiled handing both of her sons, cups of coffee as she continued, “And besides, Peter already thinks this is a grand adventure, and he hasn’t even been here 12 hours.  Plus, he’s found a new hero.”

The three of them looked over, and Peter was following Natasha around.  He’d fallen asleep by her side the night before, and he woke up asking his Mom and Dad where ‘Nat’ was.  Bucky got a kick out of it as Natasha walked around the kitchen that morning with her coffee mug, without even realizing that Peter followed right behind with his sippy cup of milk. 

Monkey see monkey do. 

Bucky chuckled, “Yeah, I suppose you’re right, Mom.  There’s nowhere safer for us all to be right now.”

Steve watched the scene in front of him, and it hit him just as powerfully as coming home _alive_ to the site of Natasha and Peter, did last night.  It was so comforting, but equally painful. 

Natasha looked up at Steve, and instantly blushed.  So did he, as he ran his hand along the back of his neck.  Yes, last night was such an important step forward.  They’d kissed, shared tears and finally fell asleep.  And they relished the feeling of being so damn happy to just hold each other once again.   

All of those feelings of love and comfort were causing Steve and Natasha to blush at each other right now, as Steve watched his nephew follow her around like a little puppy dog.  And they were what caused Natasha to stop in the kitchen, staring right back at Steve. 

Natasha almost spilled her coffee because Peter ran into the backs of her legs from her abrupt stop.  She set the cup down on the counter and ruffled Peter’s hair before Fury was calling them over to the large conference table that was set up across the first floor of the warehouse. 

Bucky had witnessed the whole scene before him and smirked at Steve, but didn’t say anything.

They had work to do.   

The team settled in at the table as Bucky, Steve, and Tony went over every detail from the night before.

* * *

 **Present Day –** FBI HQ (The Night Before)

Rumlow pulled a gun with his free hand from the back of his pants.

Tony saw it happening as Bucky shouted, “Steve look out!”

Steve slowly turned his head towards his brother, but it was too late.  The shot rang out as the gun was fired at close range. 

And then Steve fell to the ground.

By the time Bucky and Tony reached him, Rumlow was gone.  He’d crawled off and they couldn’t find him in the smoke which was becoming too dangerous to even stand or lie in much longer. 

“Rogers.”

“Steve.”

“Come on, Cap.”

“Steve, you gotta wake up.”

Tony and Bucky’s voices intermixed with each other, but both sounded of desperation.  They’d heard the shot, but Steve wasn’t bleeding from his legs or any gaps in the vest or his head.   Bucky started patting him down feverishly as he set Steve’s shield down, “Come on, Steve.  Get up!”

Steve gasped as his eyes flung open.  He started touching his stomach and chest frantically, knowing that Rumlow had shot him.  Contrary to what movies and television let their audiences believe, bullet proof vest doesn’t equal pain proof.  Quite the opposite.  Getting shot close in the chest with a vest on, hurt like a mother fucker.  Steve shifted on the ground, groaning loudly as he struggled to breathe through the smoke.

“Steve, are you shot?  Did Rumlow hit you somewhere?” 

Tony and Bucky helped pull him up as he grimaced, running his hands over his vest, and then he felt it.  The bullet.  It hadn’t fallen to the ground.  No, this bullet was right there, lodged in his vest.  It was stuck in the metal plating.  Steve ran his hands nervously underneath the vest, wondering if he was in shock, somehow not feeling any damage caused on the other side. 

But there it was.  Natasha’s journal.  Steve could feel the bullet almost stuck in the leather binding as he sighed in relief, “I’m fine, Buck.  I swear.  That son of a bitch was using cop-killer bullets, but it didn’t go through.  I’m fine.”

Steve _wasn’t_ fine.  He would have marks and pain for days from the impact.  But beyond that, this was another tally on the mental scarring chart being collected over the years.  He’d come so close to never seeing Natasha again.  All because he froze, as Rumlow provoked him with the thought of Natasha being held captive.  No.  He definitely wasn’t fine as he looked around.  But he was alive.

All three men were coughing abundantly as their vision diminished.  Tony patted Steve on the shoulder and handed him his shield back, “You lose this again, I’m keeping it.”

Steve nodded in thanks, barely being able to see the hallway they came from.  Poseidon’s operatives that were still standing had all retreated back down the stairwell.  How they got down and out of the building, they might not ever know.  There were still a couple of men moaning and screaming on the ground, from where they’d been shot.  Poseidon had left them. 

Steve yelled to Tony, “We gotta get that metal bin and get the fuck out of here, now.  Where’s Buck?”  They looked as Bucky reappeared.  He’d ran to the stairwell and back as quickly as he could.  He was coughing and shaking his head though, “We can’t go that way.  Those assholes blew up the entrance even more.  It’s completely blocked.”

Steve was charging back down the hallway as quickly as he could.  The sprinklers in Wanda’s lab, had pretty much put out the small computer fires in it, but the flames from the bullpen were growing now. 

The men were back in the meeting room and found some bottles of water.  They each took a big drink and dumped the rest over their faces, trying to counteract the smoke and feel of the heat.  “We got about three…maybe four minutes before we’re trapped here like rats, Steve.  Do we have our harnesses and rope here?  We could shoot out the window and try to scale the building,” Bucky suggested.

Tony shot it down, “We’re up past the 40th floor, Barnes.  There’s _no way_ we make that.  Even if we left the evidence bin and our weapons, we still couldn’t make it.  And we _can’t_ leave the bin.”

Steve was thinking as quickly as he could, removing a flip phone out of the pocket of his jacket.  The screen was cracked but it still worked.  “Rogers, I really hope you’re not planning on ordering take-out right now,” Tony said.  He was trying to joke to keep his mind off of the suffocating heat in the room.  But the edge in his voice gave it away. 

Tony was _really_ worried.  They all were.

“No, I think I might know someone who can help.”  Steve dialed and was on and off the phone within 30 seconds as he continued, “Let’s go.  We gotta get this stuff to the roof.”

Bucky shouted, “Steve, the roof is the worst place to be to get to the ground.”  Steve looked out the door again and down the hallway.  He saw that the fire was almost to Fury’s office.  It would reach the stairwell door next, and then Wanda’s lab.  And after that, the hidden hallway’s double doors, and then Natasha’s room he’d been sleeping in for a month.

He went over by the mini-fridge and grabbed the two cases of water sitting by it, “We gotta move quick.  I just called a ride.  It’ll be here shortly, so hopefully the fire stays away for that long.  We only have a couple of flights of stairs to go to get up there.”

They grabbed the bin and opened the door to the hidden hallway again, and the flames had almost reached the stairwell door to the roof, “Shit.”  Steve said, before Tony yelled, “Here, use these blankets, let’s soak them with as much water as we can and hopefully that’ll cover us to get to the stairs at least.”

Bucky and Steve looked troubled, but followed Tony’s lead as they all started rapidly dumping the water bottles on three thin blankets that’d been covering Tony’s weapons earlier in the bin.

Tony yelled again, “Faster, we gotta go in like 10 seconds.  Remember, take a big breath before we get into that hallway.  We inhale much more of this stuff, and we’ll pass out and never get out of here.”  Bottle cap after bottle cap were flying.  The last of the water was emptied on their heads and down their chests.  They wrapped themselves each in a soaked blanket, picked up the bin and made a run for it.

The hallway was black as night and thick as mud with dangerous heat and smoke.  They didn’t hesitate as they ran the 20 feet, but halted.  They were going to have to run through fire through the last three feet.  Steve ran first, covered in his sheet with his shield protecting his face as he got to the door and opened it, holding it for Tony and Bucky.  They awkwardly carried the semi-open bin, with Bucky’s gun and Veronica inside, but both men made it through the door. 

Tony and Bucky burst through and got to the stares as Steve shut the door, but his blanket had caught on fire.  Tony and Bucky jumped on him and knocked him to the ground, covering him as they patted him down.  They’d put the fire out and instantly threw their blankets to the ground.  Steve was coughing, but no serious damage had been done.  

“Jesus Christ, Rogers.  First you survive a bullet, and now you make it out from being caught on fire…You might be the luckiest SOB I’ve ever known.”  Steve groaned again as he stood up.  He focused on one thing and one thing only, “Come on, let’s get to the roof and get the hell out of here.”

It’d been seven minutes since Steve made the call, and they were all borderline panicking now as time ticked on.  They were officially trapped with nowhere else to go.  And Bucky gave a look to Steve that he knew all too well.  It was the look saying, _‘This might be it.’_

They’d shared the same look in Afghanistan a couple of times, and it was a look they’d both had a month ago, as Steve ran off to save Natasha. 

Two minutes. 

Two of the longest minutes passed as they listened to the sound of silence.  There were sirens in the distance, but they’d be too late by the time they got to the roof… _If_ they could even get to the roof.  And there was the rolling, quiet sound of the billowing fire and smoke below them.  It was as haunting as it was unnerving.  And it ran through the air like the growing beat of a bass drum. 

But the sounds all ran through them.  Nothing was registering, and they were deaf to their surroundings because all they could think of for those two minutes, were their loved ones.  

Pepper.  Wanda.  Peter.  Sarah.  Natasha.  And all their friends.

Thoughts of relief that their loved ones were safe.  But also thoughts of panic and fear, knowing that yes, _this might be it_.  Heat rises, and so do flames that begin to engulf the floor of a building that’s over 40 stories high.  Flames that stop at nothing, reaching for oxygen in that same building, that was acting more like a chimney right now.  Smoke had started seeping out of the bottom of the stairwell door. 

And the three of them knew they didn’t have much more time.  This was their only option, and it looked for a little bit, like they might fail.  The men drew closer together, almost like they were prepared to say something you would hear in the final moments of life, but then the silence inside their heads ended. 

And the most glorious sound emerged from the air as their panic and fear faded.

Chopper blades. 

They emerged from the sky like a grace from god as a black helicopter landed on the roof.  The door opened and Jessica Jones was there, yelling out with the widest grin, “Hey there, Assholes.  Looks like you boys might need a ride.”

Tony and Bucky hadn’t met her, but something told them they sure as hell were going to get along.  They threw the bin in and all buckled into their seats as the chopper took off within another 30 seconds.  Frank Castle was piloting as they ascended into the night sky.  And just as the helicopter cleared the antenna from the rooftop, the air shook around them.   A huge fireball had emerged from the 41st floor that they were _just_ on, a few minutes ago.

“What the fuck was that?” Castle yelled out as he corrected their position from the blast.  Tony, Bucky, and Steve all looked back in disbelief and shock, as they realized they’d gotten off the roof in the nick of time. 

Bucky yelled, “It was that goddamn rubbing alcohol, Tony.  You had me and Steve coat the rooms with it because you thought we were gonna be long gone by the time the fire reached those rooms.”

Tony scoffed as he looked wildly at what could’ve easily been different fates for the men, “Well, any signs of Romanoff and Barton are completely gone now.  So, there’s the silver lining.  And I guess some of your fortune rubbed off on us tonight, Cap.  We’re all lucky SOB’s.”

The three men sat back and all grinned at Tony’s words.  It was too heavy to sink into the immediate worry and panic that would surely come from their close encounter.  Just like in the field and at war, they relied on coping mechanisms like their sarcasm and humor to make it through moments like these.

“Castle, grow a pair of balls and get this fucking thing away from any spotlights that might be coming our way.  We’re gonna have to go away from the city and sneak the guys back to Barton’s coordinates he gave us.”

“Stop fucking ordering me around, Jones.” 

The two mercenaries at the front of the chopper kept going as Tony yelled, “Nice friends you got there, Rogers.  I think they’d fit in nice at the country club.  Maybe we can all play a nice game of squash together.”

Steve grinned again.

Clint had given him Jessica Jones’ number a couple weeks ago along with a burner phone they could contact her and the mercenaries with, if and when they needed help on the run.  Steve was skeptical at the time, wondering if he’d ever need it.  But thank god Clint gave it to him because they wouldn’t have gotten themselves out alive without Jones’ help.

Speaking of which…

“Hey Jones, this is my brother, Bucky.  And this is Tony.  We owe you for big for tonight.”

Jones smirked at Steve.  She’d grown to respect him from the grit he showed the evening he’d rescued Natasha.  Castle did too.  But he wasn’t about to smile as he shouted from the front, “We’ll call it even, Rogers...If you give us another chance to blow up some fucking Russians soon.”

Tony lifted his eyebrow as Steve waved Castle’s words off and yelled, “Hey Jones, where the hell did you guys get this chopper?”

She put her headgear on and turned around with a dubious look, “Don’t you worry about that, Rogers.  It’s best some stones are left unturned.  No, Castle!  South.  We gotta head south first, Frank.  I swear to fucking god, the only way you listen is if I grab your dick and make you.”

Castle yelled back, “How many times do I have to tell you assholes.  No first names on a mission!  You’re as bad as fucking Rand, sometimes.”

Bucky scoffed out a laugh.  Turns out Castle and Jones’ edgy verbiage, and dark and weird sexual chemistry, added a little more levity to the heavy feeling rapidly descending on the three men. 

Bucky took the radio out of his vest, that he’d stolen from Jack Rollin’s lifeless body before.  There was no rest for the wicked as the crackling of the radio sounded in the helicopter, “Tony, Steve…listen close.  I can hear someone talking.” 

* * *

BZ:  Mission Report.

BR:  Zemo, the floor is gone.  It’s all fucking gone.  Romanoff wasn’t there. 

BZ:  Mission Report, Rumlow.

BR:  I shot Rogers, but I think he survived.  I managed to get away.  Rollins is fucking dead, and I think we lost about 20 men.  I don’t know what they had on that floor, but there were grenades and streams of fire everywhere. 

BZ:  _Mission Report, Rumlow._

BR:  Fuck.  Failure, okay?  Is that what you want to hear, you crazy bastard?  Failure. 

BZ:  Return to base.  Poseidon will be _disappointed_ in your failure, Rumlow. 

BR:  My failure?  You listen to me, asshole.  I said the mission was a failure.  Sitwell pulled the trigger too damn soon tonight, because his panties were in a twist after he and Ross went to the FBI.  Now Sitwell is in the wind, and we’re 20 men down.  And we fucking lost, Rollins. 

BZ:  Return to base, Rumlow.  We’ve all lost people.  So will _they_ by the end.  By the end, they’ll see their empire crumble from within and fall to pieces.

* * *

“Who the hell was that?” Bucky asked. 

Tony grabbed the radio out of his hand and pulled off the back of it immediately.  He unhooked the wiring to turn it off, “We don’t know what type of transmitting capabilities this thing has.  Until Wanda and Loki can check it out in the lab, I don’t want us touching it again. 

Steve remembered the provoking words that Rumlow had shouted at him 20 minutes ago, and he had to breathe to calm his growing anger now.  Rumlow had gotten away.  And now there was this other person, Zemo, that they’d never heard of until right now. 

“Ivan and Oksana are the equivalencies of being some big time Generals under Poseidon in America.  Maybe Zemo is from another part of the country.  Or maybe he’s from Russia, and came in to assist.  We do know that Sitwell fucked up tonight.”  Steve’s jaw tightened as the memories from the evening began to wash over him.

Tony threw the radio in the bin and laid his head back against the seat, trying to calm his nerves too, “Enough office talk.  We almost died about 20 times in a row tonight.  So let’s rest for like, I don’t know, 15 minutes maybe?  At least until we land.”

Bucky nodded and took his gloves off.  He reached into the pocket of his vest and put his wedding ring back on.  He never wore it in the field for safety, but he had it on him tonight because the attack was a surprise.  He ran his finger over the gold band, letting out a very grateful breath.  He survived and somehow having it back on right now, made him feel closer to Wanda. 

Steve groaned from the sharp pains in his chest as he reached inside his vest.  He pulled Natasha’s journal out as the bullet became dislodged, dropping into his palm.  He stared down at it as the eerie quiet accompanied their flight.  His hands began to shake a little as the emotions from close calls continued their deluge inside him.  The bullet came _so close_ , but he was here and _survived_. 

Steve formed a fist around the bullet and took a shaky breath before tossing it to the ground.  He couldn’t focus on that now if he was going to make it back in one piece.  Jones said they’d drop them off 20 miles north of the compound where an SUV was waiting for them to drive. 

Running his fingers over Natasha’s journal for a minute, Steve tried to calm his breathing before putting it back inside his vest, right over his heart.  Somehow she’d protected him tonight, and it was all just a little too much right now.  He shut his eyes tight, focusing on the only thing that calmed his sputtering nerves in that moment - seeing that Natasha was safe.  

* * *

 **Present Day –** Task-Force Compound

The task-force sat around the large conference table.  They were all stunned, listening to Tony, Steve, and Bucky’s re-telling from the night before. 

Silence _would have_ filled the air as they processed everything, except Fury was busy with his Morse Code machine, tapping away as if it was his full-time job.  As if he _hadn’t_ been told that his previous place of employment for the past 12 years was blown to pieces.  And that Tony, Bucky, and Steve were almost killed. 

Maria was on edge like everyone else, “Fury, I didn’t realize that you were taking minutes of our meeting via telegraph.”  And Tony couldn’t help himself, “I mean, Nick.  The fact that you’re so touched by our almost deaths last night, is truly moving.  Really.  Don’t shed a tear or anything…or even blink an eye.”

Fury smirked, “You know.  Being against the ropes like this.  You may think its cause to be worried.  But you see, I think it’s a strength.  Because now everyone thinks we’re potentially dead.  It frees us from this charade of hiding Loki’s involvement, and hiding Romanoff and Barton in general.”

He stopped tapping finally and looked up, “No matter who wins or loses, trouble still comes around.  I taught you all that long ago.  So right now, here we all are, with nothing but our wit and our will.  We have the resources and all the evidence from the FBI.  We have each other.  We have allies, which I am working on contacting right now.  And we have a heck of a compound, Stark.  Impressive work.”

Tony couldn’t help but grin slightly at the praise, “You know, Rogers is usually the one with the rousing speech, Nick.  He might get worried you’re gonna take his day job.”

Steve shook his head, “I agree Fury, we have a lot to be thankful for right now, but how about you clue us in, on what you’re doing with a machine from the 40’s.”

“What I’m doing, is communicating with Secretary Ross right now.  He and I don’t always see eye-to-eye, but we are on the side of this country, I can assure you of that.  I checked in with him and sent him a message.  He has a telegraph machine like this in his office that no one else knows about.”

“What’d you tell Ross, Fury?” Sam asked. 

“I told him, _‘_ Scooby Gang and friends intact, and gone underground.  Your #2 was playing for the other team.  You may have bugs in your house.  Best to only talk this way for now _.’”_

Fury knew by saying ‘friends,’ that Ross would know Betty was safe.  They were estranged, but Fury wasn’t going to deny the man the peace of knowing she was alive and ok.

And just as Bucky was about to ask how long until they heard back, the machine started printing out ticker tape as Fury started decoding, “You know.  I’m not going to be your Girl Friday after today.  You all are going to have to learn how to use this thing too.”

After two minutes of sitting on the edges of their seat, Fury read what Ross sent back, “Good to hear.  Sitwell’s in the wind.  The farm has bugs.  Big infestation discovered last night.”

“Shit.”

Fury’s cursing, along with the mysterious message from Ross, had everyone looking at each other in the room before Rhodey asked, “The Farm?  As in the CIA’s training facility for recruits in Langley, Virginia?”

“Yes, that would be The Farm, Ross is referring to,” Fury started speaking but another message came through, “Ross just told me the CIA’s server was breached last night too.”

The air was heavy for a good 30 seconds before Natasha spoke.

“Do you know what was taken yet, Fury?” 

Her face was concerned like everyone else’s, but there was something else going inside her head.  Steve saw it immediately as she narrowed her eyes and drew her lower lip nervously between her teeth.  He reached over to still her bouncing knee as Fury answered, “Ross just told me that it was similar data that you stole from the FBI seven years ago, Romanoff.”

Natasha had individually apologized to everyone over the last few weeks for her actions, so this moment by no means was the first time that the subject had been brought up.  But it was still awkward as Natasha tried to hide a small cringe that Steve saw.  He grabbed her hand under the table as she answered Fury, “Data about the CIA’s location and layout…for The Farm and for the CIA headquarters in New York?”

Fury nodded, “That would be the similar data, yes Romanoff.  Sounds like maybe the CIA plans for D.C. too.  You look like you’re about to solve a really difficult quantum physics formula.  Care to share?”

Natasha looked over at Clint, and it was clear he _wasn’t_ on the same page as her right now.   She was on her own for the moment.  Maybe it was because Natasha had stolen the actual files, and she’d been dealing with the guilt of those actions internally for seven years, that caused her to start theorizing.  Or maybe it was because she’d been held captive for 21 months by the same sadistic people that tried to kill them all last night at the FBI Headquarters. 

Whatever it was, caused something deep within her brain to shift.  Like a shadow emerging from the dark, that she couldn’t quite see yet.  It was a deep rooted itch that she just started to scratch.  But she couldn’t sit here with the feeling, so she stood up, much to Steve’s surprise, “What is it, Natasha?”

Natasha looked around the office space with wide eyes and found the dry erase markers.  Walking over to the drawing board, she immediately started mapping out her thoughts.  She drew a rough visual map of Poseidon’s reach across the world.  She knew the goal was world domination as she wrote out the familiar mission of ‘Infiltrate, Secure, and Destroy,’ but she didn’t know that much else about specifics within particular countries.

But Natasha became more detailed when it came to the U.S. 

Natasha was coming at this from a new angle.  From someone that had personally stolen intel for Poseidon, yes.  But also, as someone who’d been held captive by Ivan and Oksana.  As someone, for whatever reason, felt like she knew more than what she could tap into right now.  Natasha glanced back at everyone staring at her anxiously, but she saw Steve watching with amazement.  She seemed more like herself in this moment that she had for the last month as she started rattling off a theory.

“Okay, there’s these flashes.  It’s like an image that’s blurred.  And I know that I know _something_ …but I can’t quite make out, you know?”  Blank faces met her jumbled question as she flitted her fingers through the air, “Just stay with me while I try to work through this.”

“We’re with you, Romanoff.”  Bucky’s voice broke through as she held back a grin.  She drew arrows between the connections, “Okay, Stark Industries supplies the weapons to Poseidon.  The State Department has ties across the world, which is how I’m sure Sitwell kept in contact with other moles across the globe.  But that means Sitwell was mainly an information sharing branch.  And he was responsible for setting up payment and funneling funds through the Lemurian Star.”

She drew a few more arrows as she processed her thoughts between the three names - Stark Industries, State Department, Lemurian Star.  Then she branched out from the circle, showing the FBI and the CIA as two consequential breaches as a result from the circle, “Okay, the information, money, and weapons flow between the circle.  That’s their channel that keeps the operation running in America.  The FBI, and now the CIA it’s looking like…are targets.  So, what’s the missing link of data that Loki and Wanda and Bruce discovered?  The Department of Defense.”

Natasha put, D.O.D., right in the middle of the circle of operations and stood back.  Her eyes stared at it as Steve watched her.  It was like she was trying to recall a memory that just wasn’t there right now.  And it was driving her _crazy_ , “The Department of Defense is bigger than just a cog in this operation.  We know _nothing_ about who is working for Poseidon inside the D.O.D., but it has ties to all the branches of the military.  It handles all of the contracts for weapons, tying it to Stark Industries and the funding from the Lemurian Star.  And Sitwell would’ve provided intel from State to the D.O.D. with Poseidon’s contacts all over the world.  There’s a reason why we haven’t been able to figure out anything else on the D.O.D.  Whoever is inside the Defense Department, is a big fish for Poseidon.  I know it.”

She repeated herself, “I can’t explain it, but I just _know it_ somehow.”

“Okay, Romanoff.  What else?”  Fury was encouraging her to keep going.  Everything she’d said so far was information they had already or just made logical sense.

“It’s something that you told me, Steve.  That man, Zemo, right?  That Zemo said on the radio last night.  He said, ‘ _T_ _hey’ll see their empire crumble from within and fall to pieces.’”_

Natasha took a breath and wrote out Ivan and Oksana’s name on the board, next to the circle she’d just created.  She added Rumlow’s name underneath theirs.

And then she put Zemo’s above them, “I’ve _never_ heard of Zemo or met him.  But I can tell you, he’s from Russia.  Ivan wouldn’t let Rumlow talk with anyone else besides them last night, unless the person outranked him.  Zemo is from Russia.  And if someone from Russia is over in the States, helping coordinate the attack last night, then it’s big.  And it means they are _very_ close to carrying out their plan.  I think the FBI attack was a failure in finding me, but it _was_ a successful diversion.”

“A pretty fucking big diversion, if you ask me.”  Tony rubbed his shoulder that was still in a lot of pain where he’d been thrown against the wall, using Veronica. 

Natasha continued, “Yes, it was, and they needed it to be…if they were going to steal intel from The Farm and the CIA’s servers last night.  Loki and Wanda, you’ve said that the NSA, CIA, and Homeland were fairly clean as far as connections to Poseidon, unlike the D.O.D and the State Department.  Well, they got the information from the FBI from me seven years ago.  And they had it in their back pocket to use, when they needed the distraction.”

“The perfect moment for what, Natasha?”  Maria asked.

Natasha’s brow creased as she went to the other side of the board, to the only remaining white space left.  She wrote out all the branches of government they’d talked about: FBI, CIA, D.O.D., NSA, Homeland, and the State Department. 

“After hearing about the CIA breach, and everything about an empire crumbling from within, it has me thinking…Poseidon’s attack isn’t going to be a statement like trying to blow up Washington D.C. or something.  Because a bold and big attack like that would be something that America would rally and rebound from.  Our forces are too strong and are spread out throughout the country.  But to have something crumble from within, you’d need precision, and deliberate attack points.”

She continued, “The information on the FBI building is one thing.  But the Farm?  And Quantico?  Why would Poseidon want information on training grounds?  For the longest time, I thought they just wanted me to take the intel seven years ago, as a way of hurting all of you in the worst way imaginable.” 

Natasha paused as her eyes glassed over, “And I know it did exactly that.  I know it hurt _all of you_ deeply, and I’m so sorry.”  She’d apologized before, but somehow her words were that much more powerful now as the room took her words in.  Wanda smiled at her and others followed.  They’d already had the conversation with her, but she needed to say it again, because it was true.  She would always be sorry for her actions, regardless of her intent.

She shook off the emotion for the moment and went on, “But now…I don’t think it was _only_ that.  I think there was a deeper meaning.  There _always_ is with Poseidon.  The revenge and vindictiveness?  All Ivan and Oksana.  But I think for Poseidon and the people at the top in Russia, it was the catalyst.  And now the ripple effect is in motion, all to put Russia back at the top.”

The ripple effect. 

Sometimes ripples can be seen and predicted.  Others are hidden beneath the surface, waiting to emerge days, weeks, or even years down the road.  The heartache and pain were natural dominos that fell after Natasha betrayed the team.

But there were other ripples.

Unforeseen ripples created by her actions seven years ago, just as the ripples of her stupid and prideful actions during the Mole Mission were unknown at the time.   Sometimes, ripples can be short and others long-lasting.  The immediate ripple was their pain and the fallout.  The longer ripple though, was what was happening right now.

The harsh truth? 

Natasha and Steve weren’t supposed to survive at the cabin a month ago.  They weren’t.  The only reason they both had, was because Clint and his team were involved.  And because Loki was working with them.  They had one shot to save Natasha and they did…barely. 

And now, Natasha was alive, and on the cusp of remembering…something.  And Poseidon _definitely_ did not want her remembering. 

Natasha had been the one to take the files from the FBI seven years ago, so she was more than personally connected to all of this.  She’d lived with this guilt from her actions for seven long years.  She’d been forced to listen to Ivan and Oksana’s delusional mantras about world power and strength for her entire life.  And she’d been forced to survive with their twisted rage for almost two years, which she remembered flashes and blips of.  But mostly it was this shifting puzzle of pain that she was afraid to dive into.

Except now.  Because there was something hidden in those repressed thoughts.  Behind the curtain, there was _something_ hidden in her memories, and Natasha _knew_ it.  She just couldn’t say what ‘it’ was right now.  

All of those ripples caused Natasha to be here.  Right now, in front of all of them.  And it caused her to make the leap she was about to, “Fury, do you have any way of finding out if there were other data breaches last night, from across the country…or even world?  Do you have contacts besides Ross at State?”

“I do have some other aces up my sleeve, Romanoff.  What are you thinking?”  Fury asked.

“We don’t know when, where or how.  But we know the why, with Poseidon – to reclaim power.  And I think we’re figuring out the what – data from breaches.  First the FBI.  Now the CIA.  Poseidon wouldn’t take the same type of data from The Farm without a specific reason.”

Natasha took a breath before she frantically turned to Stark, “Tony, how far back would the CIA be set…let’s say…if The Farm and all the recruits in it, were attacked along with their main headquarters?”

Tony ran his hand over his face, “I mean…We’re talking years, if not a decade.  You’d still have all your field agents, hidden across the world.  But if you took out the mothership, _and_ also the breeding ground for new recruits, you’re taking out the hope and growth for the future.  The impact would be astronomically negative.”

Clint stood up now and went by his sister, “Well if that doesn’t fucking sound like Poseidon’s line of thinking, I don’t know what does.”  Natasha nodded along with him and turned to Steve, “And Steve, what about Quantico.  If it was attacked, similarly?”

Steve blew out a breath, “I mean any given time at Quantico, you have about 200 trainees there, at different points in the cycle.  If you took that out, the flow of new blood into the FBI would be halted, and if the main HQ was attacked in D.C.?  Yeah, I’d say the same as Tony, we’re talking years of repercussions.  Probably even a decade before it could regain the strength it has today.”

Natasha and Clint looked at each other and nodded before Natasha continued, “And that would create a hole…a vacuum that Poseidon could step into.  But it’s not even as simple as the CIA and FBI.  Because that’s just America’s security structure.  It’s not even close to all of our defenses in this country.”

She was back to the drawing board, using her sweatshirt to wipe out part of what she’d already written.  Natasha drew what looked to be a massive tank with belted tracks, “Just stay with me here.  This tank is America.  Poseidon deems America as Enemy Number One, so let’s focus just on us for now.  You don’t attack a tank by trying to blow a hole in the side.  So, how do you stop it?  How do you effectively take out the world’s leading superpower?”

“The tracks are taken out one-by-one,” Thor said. 

Natasha nodded and put CIA and FBI on two of the tracks.  Maria and Thor told Romanoff to add Homeland and NSA. 

Tony stood up now, “So they take out cyber, intel, our connection to the world…but that still leaves us with all of our defense structure.”

Natasha clenched her jaw, “You’re goddam right it does, Tony.  And the defense structure may be in jeopardy if the D.O.D. is somehow trying to cripple the U.S. Military bases, the same way I think they’re trying to takedown our security structure.”  It was a leap.  But it also made a hell of a lot of sense, knowing the meticulous planning and patience that Poseidon was capable of. 

Natasha honestly looked a little wild as she went on, “Poseidon can’t match the U.S.’s funding or strength or size.  But if it takes out the legs and arms of security and defense in the country, then Zemo’s words stand a better chance to come to fruition…to see it crumble from within.”

Bucky asked, “Romanoff.  We know Poseidon is dangerous.  But we don’t have any solid leads that the military is actually at risk.”

Natasha was at a breaking point.  From frustration of not being able to remember whatever was in her head, and from frustration from every fucking thing that’d happened to her as she said a little louder, “And none of you had any solid leads that I was alive for 21 months before Steve and Clint found me.  And yet I _was_ alive.”

Her words landed like a bomb.  Wanda grabbed Bucky’s hands and pretty much everyone hung their heads low.  Steve shut his eyes because the other harsh truth was…that was _exactly_ why he was filled with guilt.  He suddenly felt like he could be sick as her eyes met his.  Hell, Clint felt the exact same way as Steve, and he actually had been looking for her for over a year and a half. 

Natasha didn’t mean it the way it came out.  And Fury…was letting this happen, because the team _had to_ work through moments like these on their own.  They couldn’t walk on eggshells forever. 

Natasha’s words were shaky as she went on, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.  But this isn’t me making wild accusations.  This is me, knowing my fucking handlers so well, it makes me viscerally sick.  This is me knowing how obsessed and maniacal Poseidon leaders are…believing they’ll be at the top again.  They don’t just believe it, they feel and breathe it.  It is their entire life and existence.  This is me knowing that if they have data on the CIA, and FBI, then the other security agencies are at risk.  And this is me, _knowing with every fucking fiber of my being_ , that if they’re going after our security, then they’re going after our defense too.”

Natasha turned around and wrote out the rest of her thought process and started listing where she thinks Poseidon might potentially attack, in addition to the four security agencies (CIA, Homeland, FBI, NSA):

  * U.S. Army – West Point, New York
  * U.S. Navy – Annapolis, Maryland
  * U.S. Air Force – Colorado Springs, Colorado
  * U.S. Coast Guard – New London, Connecticut
  * U.S. Merchant Marine – Kings Point, New York
  * And if the academies are on the list, then you bet your ass the U.S. Marine Corp Training Depots in South Carolina and California are on the list too.



Steve spoke up, not as the love of Natasha’s life, but as the leader of his FBI team that formerly included every person in this room besides Clint, “It’s the best lead and angle we’ve had in weeks.  We put out feelers through Morse Code to Fury’s contacts, and maybe a couple of other people we trust.  We target our efforts on finding out what we can about the D.O.D., and we keep our ears to the ground, trying to see if any other breaches occurred last night or recently.  If this is true, we’ll need to find out who is working for Poseidon in the D.O.D.  It’s going to be key to figuring out when Poseidon is attacking.”

Fury spoke next, “All you have is your wit and will and each other, along with the resources at our fingertips.  Good work, Romanoff.  Good work, everyone.  I just sent messages over Morse Code to Melinda May in Asia, and Phil Coulson in South America.  They’ve been on separate assignments for a few months, so they can hopefully pick up some international chatter there.”

Steve added, “You might find out something from Colonel Phillips, Fury.  Let me give you his location.  I bet he has his ears to the ground in Europe.  Morse Code is right up his alley.”

Steve came over to sit by him as Fury added, “I’ve got undercover agents in the D.O.D. right now.  You can call me distrusting all you want, but I’m sure as hell glad I have that ace up my sleeve at the moment.  I don’t want to pull on that thread though, until we know for sure, who the hell this big fish is at the D.O.D.”

Natasha threw her dry erase marker on the table, “I’m sorry, Fury.  I wish I knew more.”

Fury was already typing again, “Romanoff, this is great.  Like Rogers said, it gives us a new angle and lead to move on.  And don’t beat yourself up.  We can go round and round with guilt, to and from each other all we want.  There is enough from everyone in spades...on a lot of fronts besides what you did Romanoff, and what happened to you.  I think a lot of you hashed out some of that a month ago, when you all collided trying to arrest Loki, right?  And guess what, you’re all still here.  And maybe you’re even starting to trust each other again.  Romanoff, you’re _here,_ and you’re _alive_.  Stark, Rogers, Barnes…you crazy assholes survived last night with your grit and quick thinking.  We’re _all_ alive, and Poseidon doesn’t have any idea where we are.  That’s what matters right now.”

Natasha’s face reddened as Clint patted her shoulder and the meeting ended.  They all had their separate assignments, trying to figure out as much as they could about the CIA breach, where else was at risk, learning Morse Code, trying to figure out the mole in the D.O.D., and when and how Poseidon were really going to attack.

Steve was finished giving Fury the information on Phillips, and came over to grab Natasha’s hand, “You were amazing, Natasha.  You should’ve seen yourself piecing together everything.”  Natasha leaned in for a quick hug, “I just wish I could remember what I know is in my head.  It’s driving me crazy, Steve.”

* * *

 **_4 Years Ago –_ ** _Russia_

_To everything (turn, turn, turn)_

_There is a season (turn, turn, turn)_

_And a time to every purpose, under heaven_

_A time to be born, a time to die_

_A time to plant, a time to reap_

_A time to kill, a time to heal_

_A time to laugh, a time to weep_

_To everything (turn, turn, turn)_

_There is a season (turn, turn, turn)_

_And a time to every purpose, under heaven_

_***_

_The sound of metal clasps coming undone filled the silence._

_As soon as he was free, Steve walked away from Natasha, putting some space between them as quickly as he whisked her onto the dancefloor a couple of hours ago.  They’d entered the safehouse a few minutes ago, and Natasha said she had a lock picking tool in a drawer._

_“Of course, you do.”_

_That was the first thing Steve said, since he’d muttered, ‘Fuck’ right before they had fucked.  So, that pretty much summarized the emotional state of the duo inside the tiny house.  The fact that Steve let Natasha pick the lock to the cuffs, and free herself from being joined to him, told her everything she needed to know.  Steve hated what just happened between them as much as she did._

_It felt great, physically.  But the whole desperate act left them feeling cold and hollow right to the core.  Sex with an ex might sound enticing.  But in this case, there was no exit plan after the sex.  There was no meeting up for drinks, with the understanding that the night would be filled with mindless physical contact with someone that knew the other person’s body well.  There was no notion of ‘no strings attached.’_

_No._

_‘No strings attached,’ wasn’t something that Natasha and Steve could ever comprehend.  Yes, sex with an ex might sound enticing.  But it might also make an incredibly sticky and horrible situation, that much worse.  Especially if the situation included an ex-boyfriend tracking down a criminal ex-girlfriend, who’d pulled the rug out three years prior.  Especially since that current ex-boyfriend was trying to convince himself he could get over the woman who pulled that rug.  Especially since the ex-boyfriend was failing._

_Failing miserably._

_And as far as the ex-girlfriend?  Well, she couldn’t and **wouldn’t** tell the man anything.  The man who surprised the hell out of her and handcuffed her.  No, she wouldn’t say that everything she did, was because his life and his family’s life were in danger if she didn’t do as Ivan and Oksana said.  _

_The desire to tell Steve battled with her realization she just couldn’t right now.  And it left Natasha feeling even more hollow and empty inside than what their wordless fucking just had._

_And that was saying something._

_Natasha and Steve were quite the pair.  First, they weren’t able to keep their hands off of each other the first chance they truly got.  And now?  Well, they couldn’t wait even five minutes to separate and put some distance between themselves._

_Natasha freed her wrist next and threw the cuffs on the counter, letting the clanging sound resonate between them.  She looked over at Steve and shut her eyes.  He was standing and looking out a window, and trying to hide how he was watching her through the reflection in the pane of glass.  They both felt used and equally like they used each other, and it was suffocating._

_Natasha suddenly felt like she had to get out of her clothes.  Walking towards the hallway, she headed towards the one bedroom in the house to find some old spare clothes.  She only made it two steps before Steve quickly made his way over to her._

_He grabbed her wrist, “Where are you going?”_

_There was the distrust, immediately rushing back.  And Natasha reacted in kind, glaring at him, “If you trust me so little, you should have just stayed cuffed to me, Steve.  I’m going to go put some different clothes on.  I feel pretty gross right now.”_

_Her words cut through him like a knife, and he let go of her immediately, groaning at how screwed up this entire situation was.  She blew out a breath, “Look, you can stand in the doorway with your back turned or something okay?  I’d say you could watch, but I’m guessing you’re feeling about the same as me right now.”_

_Steve stopped himself from rolling his eyes and did exactly what she suggested._

_Steve stood (blocked) in the doorway to the bedroom as Natasha rummaged through a couple drawers and pulled out a pair of leggings, a long T-shirt, and a zip up hoodie.  He heard her undoing his belt around her waist.  And then she was slipping out of her dress and his jacket, and all he could do was silently curse himself for his lack of control earlier.  It was the same for Natasha as she kept nervously staring at his backside.  She was changed within a minute, “These are Clint’s, but they’re pretty big.  So, they should fit you.”_

_Steve turned around and saw a pair of grey sweatpants and a white T-shirt on the bed.  He stared at them as he battled his emotions.  Natasha scoffed after a few seconds, breaking his train of thought, “Don’t worry, Steve.  Accepting some old sweats from me, doesn’t equate to you being able to stand the sight of me.  I get it.  But just do me a favor and stop being so stubborn.  Put on the goddamn sweats.”_

_Steve shook his head as she walked to the bathroom inside the bedroom.  He did as she said.  He needed to get out of his clothes just as badly as she had.  So, he took his pants and shoes off, and slipped on the sweats.  He un-buttoned the blue linen shirt and groaned as he pulled his white undershirt off.  Sore muscles made themselves known, where the large Russian had gotten in a couple of shots on his body._

_And Natasha…couldn’t help herself.  She was standing in the bathroom, watching his every move in the mirror._

_Natasha took in his thighs and calves as he put the sweats on.  She watched his hands as they pulled and tugged his shirt off.  And then she drank in every inch, at the site of his back.  His beautiful and strong and incredibly gorgeous back, that she’d kissed and laid on so many times.  She could almost feel the warmth of it on her lips as she heard him groan.  And then she saw his muscles move and contract under his skin, as he stretched for a second before he threw the fresh T-shirt on._

_Steve felt her eyes on him.  He caught her dead square in the midst of her ogling as he turned around.  Their eyes connected in the mirror for a brief moment, and it broke her trance.  She cleared her throat and finished washing her hands before coming back into the bedroom._

_All of the messy and unspoken feelings were there.  All of the memories and desire were still inside both of them.  But that initial scratch was dug at a half hour ago, leaving that uncontrollable urge at least somewhat under control right now.  But all that meant, was the anger and questions, and answers she wasn’t going to give, rushed to the surface again._

_They were in a standoff._

_Natasha in the doorway to the bathroom.  Steve standing by their clothes pooled on the floor by the bed.  The remnants of the gala and his plan, sprawled out and laid bare before them.  It was all so revealing in the most obvious way.  Steve’s plan had been reduced to hiding out in a safehouse, in god knows where in the Russian countryside as he stood in a pair of old sweats.  A pair of sweats, belonging to the brother of the woman he tried to arrest._

_Steve sighed again rubbing his hand over his beard and finally broke the awkwardness, “So, what?  This one-bedroom house is yours and Clint’s Russian reprieve?  When your crimes you commit are weighing you down with too much guilt?”_

_It was a dickish comment and Steve knew it.  But this entire situation had gone from fucked up to royally fucked up in the span of two hours.  Natasha stared at him, flinching at the harshness in his tone.  It may have been harsh.  But at the core, there was truth in his words.  And in her core?  It hurt like hell hearing Steve speak like that to her._

_“You know, being a jerk doesn’t look good on you, Rogers.”_

_Natasha brushed by him and left the room, walking back down the small hallway toward the kitchen._

_“Shit.”_

_Steve muttered to himself as he ran his hands through his hair again before walking out of the room too.  Natasha was digging through what looked like very bare cupboards for an old coffee pot and two chipped mugs._

_Steve could tell she was trying to keep busy, distracting herself with anything she could as he sighed, “You think I like how I’m acting, Natasha?  You think I like what just happened to us outside?  What we’ve been reduced to?”_

_There was nothing dickish about his words now.  She stopped, cold in her tracks and looked up at him.  This wasn’t part of his plan.  But it wasn’t part of **hers** either.  Natasha’s plan that Steve could never know about, because if he did, he’d never leave Russia.  He’d never get back to the safety of the States._

_And that was the purpose for **everything** she’d done – to protect Steve and the people she loved.  _

_No._

_Steve could never know that she ran from him out of love.  If he knew, he’d start looking at her again, like he used to.  And Natasha absolutely couldn’t deal with that.  Because so much had changed.  She’d collected so much red in her ledger.  Both her and Clint had…over the last three years.  And she couldn’t deal with the immense guilt that would follow if he started looking at her again, with all the love in the world._

_No._

_Natasha couldn’t deal with that, so she yelled at herself to do what she had to.  She had to get through the night, until Clint hopefully arrived tomorrow with the okay for Steve to go back to the Square.  And then he could safely get out of Moscow._

_“Steve, there is no ‘We.’”_

_The coffee pot was filled and plugged in as he put his hands on the counter, “What is that supposed to mean?”_

_Natasha sighed, “It means that you just said, ‘What we’ve been reduced to.’”  She took a breath before continuing, “There is no ‘We,’ Steve.  We…ended three years ago, when I left.  When I set those Russian criminals free, and when I stole those files.  Do you remember?”_

_His jaw clenched.  Steve knew **exactly** what Natasha was trying to do, but he didn’t have a chance to talk because she kept going.  “I don’t know what type of knight in shining armor fantasy you had coming here.  But there is no rescuing me.  There’s no saving Clint and me.”_

_“I know what you’re doing, Natasha.”  Steve’s voice was low and steady as he stared at her, “And it’s not going to work.”_

_Everything was boiling over, as the coffee pot brewed in the background.  And she let herself get good and pissed off.  “What am I doing, Steve?  You said you want answers.  Okay, fine…here’s an answer.  I left you.  And Clint and I fell back into what we knew and grew up with.  This is our life.  And you need to accept that.”_

_Steve Rogers was a complicated man.  Just like Natasha was a complex woman.  Yes, Steve was in denial, thinking that he could come here and somehow move on from the woman in front of him if he could arrest her, and force her to face the consequences of her actions.  But Steve had always been incredibly stubborn, just like her.  To an extent that it was deemed both a blessing and a curse at times.  And if there was one thing that would blast through his denial like a wrecking ball, it was Natasha Romanoff, the source of his denial, telling him what he needed to do and what he could and couldn’t do._

_She was going to keep going, but he cut her off this time, “Stop it.  Just stop.  You may be the best damn spy all over the world, Natasha.  But I know what you’re doing.  If there is no, ‘we,’ then I think you’ve lost the right to tell me what I should and shouldn’t accept.  And I think we both know that there is a lot more to whatever happened three years ago than what you’re saying.”_

_Natasha smacked her hands against the countertop, “Goddamnit, Steve.  This isn’t a game.  You would have been killed.  Just like that.  Just as quickly as I said it, if Ivan and Oksana saw you at the Gala tonight.”_

_His stare was unnerving to her.  Yeah, she may have been an incredibly talented spy, but Steve knew her and could tell there was a lot more going on in her head.  Steve stepped around the counter to challenge her further, “Why would you care if I was killed, if you’re just a cold-hearted spy, Natasha?  If you really just fell back into the life you knew, growing up?  Don’t even try to sell me that bullshit, because I know you’re lying and are just trying to push me away without answering any actual questions.”_

_God, he was maddening._

_And she was so flustered that she blurted out, “You want answers, fine.  Ask me a question, and I’ll give you an honest answer.”  Natasha wasn’t sure if she meant it or not, but she knew that she was in dangerous territory again.  And Steve knew he probably should have asked her something along the lines of, ‘What really happened?’ But he didn’t._

_Instead, his heart was in control right now and did the talking, “Did you mean it?”_

_Her brow pinched together, like Natasha was trying to fight the rising tide of emotions inside her, “Did I mean what?”_

_“The note you left.”_

_Fuck.  He knew her so well.  Just like she knew him._

_And here they stood, both dancing around the fact that they were still hopelessly in love with each other.  They were fighting each other and fighting themselves.  And the note, had been one of the biggest sources of Steve’s conflict over the last three years.  If Natasha was always a traitor and always planned to betray them, why did she leave the note?  It would have been so much easier to believe her actions were solely **her** actions, if she wouldn’t have left a note, desperately writing that she would always love him._

_And Natasha couldn’t lie about that.  Her heart wouldn’t let her._

_“Yes.”_

* * *

_***_

_A time to build up, a time to break down_

_A time to dance, a time to mourn_

_A time to cast away stones, a time to gather stones together_

_To everything (turn, turn, turn,)_

_There is a season (turn, turn, turn)_

_And a time to every purpose, under heaven_

_A time of love, a time of hate_

_A time of war, a time of peace_

_A time you may embrace, a time to refrain from embracing_

_To everything (turn, turn, turn)_

_There is a season (turn, turn, turn,)_

_And a time to every purpose, under heaven_

_***_

_“Yes.”_

_It was the most honest either one of them had been all night to each other.  Steve pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes as he put his elbows on the counter.  Natasha couldn’t stop herself now.  She felt exposed, admitting she meant every word in that short and scribbled note…Telling Steve that she’d always love him._

_“Was the only reason you really came to Russia to arrest me?”_

_Steve huffed out a breath and shook his head, “No, Natasha.”_

_Yes, they were in very risky territory right now as more honesty poured out, “Then why did you come here, Steve?”_

_He looked up from his hands and their eyes met, “I don’t know, Natasha.  I know I told myself if I found you and arrested you, I could maybe move on.  That bringing closure would somehow make me stop thinking about you every day.”_

_‘Fuck.’  Natasha’s voice in her head was pretty much yelling at this point, and she was a mess.  They were admitting things they shouldn’t be right now, and she knew it.  Because they were admitting things without any real answers and without any real possibility of a solution._

_Steve sighed, “I think I’m realizing right now, that if I only had time to write a short note to you before I ran away…that it would say the exact same thing.”_

_There it was.  The poorest admissions of love that both could muster up right now.  They’d admitted it without saying the actual words, using her note as a proxy.  And Steve was finally conceding to himself, why he came over here in the first place – there was no getting over Natasha Romanoff._

_Steve came around the corner of the counter and got dangerously close to her, “Then why did you run, Natasha?  And why were you just trying to push me away a minute ago?”_

_Tears and regret and pain were all swirling around inside of her.  Natasha felt like she was ready to cave from his close proximity.  But more importantly…the fact that he’d just said he still loved her, without actually saying it, had her screaming at herself.  This wasn’t part of either of their plans._

_Her voice was quiet, “Because I meant the other thing that I said too, Steve.  I’m not worth it.”_

_Steve looked like he was about to argue.  He looked like he was about to actually say the words they were dancing around and tell her every reason she was worth it.  But the sound of silence filled the air again.  They were pulled from their trance by the coffee pot.  It had reached its boiling point, beeping loudly and causing Steve and Natasha to jump._

_Natasha shut her eyes and blew out a breath, “Steve, you told me earlier that there was no going back.  You’re right.  There is no going back.  And I think you need to hear that too.  I meant every word of that note, but that’s not our life anymore.  It’s not our time.  And the things I’ve done?  I’m not worth it.”_

_Steve’s brow furrowed, “I don’t think you would’ve left that note if there wasn’t some part of you that still wanted me to find you.  If there wasn’t some part of you trying to fight for what we had.”_

_Natasha turned away and bit her lip, trying to hold back her tears, “Maybe, Steve.  But that was then.  You listened and forgave and tried to understand everything I had to do to survive when I was growing up.  You were so patient and loving with me at Quantico, when I told you about the people I’d hurt and killed and caused to go to prison, from all of the tests that Clint and I had to pass.”_

_“I remember all of it, Natasha.”_

_She didn’t miss a beat, “Yeah, I know.  Because you’re you.  But I’ve had to do some of those same things over the last three years, Steve.  I’ve stole.  I’ve lied.  I’ve hurt innocent people.  So, you tell me when you look at me, if you still see the same person that you did before I left you.”_

_Steve groaned in frustration, “Why are you doing this?  I was trying to be honest with you a minute ago.  Do you know how hard that is right now?  But you’re lying to me.  You’re hiding something because none of this adds up.  None of this makes any goddamn sense.”_

**_‘Tell him.’_ **

_The voice was even louder than before inside her head.  No.  She couldn’t do that.  Not now.  She knew Steve would find a way to forgive her if he knew, and she couldn’t accept his forgiveness because her actions over the last three years were unforgiveable in her head.  She couldn’t tell him when she hadn’t found a way…to make things right._

_And that was the first time, Natasha started forming a new plan.  It was small, but all things are when a seed is first planted.  ‘Shut up, I have to make this right,’ she told herself._

_Steve helped her so much in growing and developing into the woman she was with him.  She was dreaming of a life outside of her handlers’ plan for her, long before Steve came along.  But meeting him, and falling in love, and living the life they had together, only made her that much better.  It made her feel worthy of his love for those five years, because she was._

_She still was, she was just bogged down by her guilt and betrayal.  But right now, in that exact moment, was the first time in three years that Natasha’s plan started shifting._

_Instead of only doing what Ivan and Oksana demanded, because it would keep Steve and her loved ones safe, she began…thinking.  She began thinking, that maybe her and Clint could do something good.  Maybe they could work towards stopping Ivan and Oksana.  Maybe she could wipe out some of the red in her ledger._

_The ripple effect._

_Sometimes, the ripples in time are predictable from a decision or person’s actions.  Like if a person drinks heavily at night, they’ll surely feel the effects in the morning._

_But with Steve and Natasha, so many ripples in their life remained underneath the surface.  If Natasha wouldn’t have copied the files during the mole mission at Quantico, she wouldn’t have had to commit that specific crime five years later, because Ivan and Oksana wouldn’t have known about the server room.  If she wouldn’t have left the note on the dresser, that her heart made her write, Steve may have never come and found her in Russia._

_And if…_

_If Steve wouldn’t have kept the secrets he did from his family and friends.  If he wouldn’t have started talking with Colonel Phillips, last year at Bucky’s wedding.  If he wouldn’t have dove straight into the deep end of denial, then he wouldn’t be here in Russia with Natasha.  It wasn’t a meeting of resolution.  It wasn’t time for that yet, on their fated journey.  And it wasn’t a goodbye.  It wasn’t time for that in their tragic tale yet, either._

_It was the cast of a stone in another pool of water, causing more ripples in their lifetime that would emerge down the road, that they couldn’t predict or foresee right now._

_Steve being here, caused something to flip in Natasha.  It wasn’t that she started feeling worthy.  It was that she started finally getting pissed off, because she **didn’t** feel worthy anymore.  It was the starting point, of her focusing all of her and Clint’s efforts on not just protecting the people she loved, but to finally make the puppeteers at the helm pay. _

_No plans had been made, and no actions taken.  But if there was one thing that Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff had in common, it was that once they set their mind to something…well, it was hard telling if anything could stop them._

_“Natasha?”_

_Steve’s voice pulled her from her train of thoughts.  “Yeah, I’m…I was just thinking…I think there’s a couple of things we can both stop lying about to ourselves, Steve.”  Steve was tired and exhausted, “Natasha if you’re not going to give me answers to any of the questions I have, then could you at least stop trying to make this more complicated?”_

_Natasha scoffed, “Steve, we are the definition of complicated.  Look, I know you have no plan on putting those cuffs back on me.”_

_She could see Steve clenching his fists, trying to argue with what she was saying, but he stopped.  He took a breath and closed his eyes before she went on, “Steve, there are no answers to give to you.  I know you don’t want to hear that, and I know my words don’t mean much, but just listen.  Even if I went back with you, what do you think would happen?  I know you told yourself that you did this to move on, but that’s not the case is it?”_

_He opened his eyes again and met hers, telling her everything she was saying was true.  She continued, “If you did arrest me, you’d never see me again.  I think we both know how it would work.  The CIA would take me away in the middle of the night and throw me into a dark hole.  They’d toss away the key.  You know that.”_

_“Steve, you **know** that.”_

_And Steve did know that, and he was finally starting to admit why he’d lied and worked so hard.  Why he’d collaborated with Colonel Phillips and learned a language.  It wasn’t to arrest her.  It was because he knew he’d never move on.  He had to see her.  He had to try to…_

_‘Save her…you were going to say, save her, Rogers.’_

_God, Natasha hated when Steve was right.  But Steve hated when Natasha was right, too.  His voice in his head was reminding him of how right she was earlier, when she’d called him out on wanting to be her knight in shining armor._

_“Nat…”_

_Natasha turned away towards the coffee pot because she was going to start crying.  Because there it was again.  His name for her.  But this time it wasn’t an accident.  This time, Steve was heeding her advice and finally admitting something within himself out loud, “I can’t go back without you, Nat.  I can’t.  The last three years…were miserable.  I’ve been so mad at you, but I’ve been so mad at myself too because every night.  Every damn night, I think of you.”_

_“Damn it.”_

_Steve looked over her shoulder as her words interrupted him, “What happened?”  Natasha shook her head, “I burned my hand on that stupid coffee pot.  I’ll be back in a second.  I think there’s some aloe in the bathroom.”_

* * *

_***_

_To everything (turn, turn, turn)_

_There is a season (turn, turn, turn)_

_And a time to every purpose, under heaven_

_A time to gain, a time to lose_

_A time to rend, a time to sew_

_A time for love, a time for hate_

_A time for peace, I swear it’s not too late_

_To everything (turn, turn, turn)_

_There is a season (turn, turn, turn)_

_And a time to every purpose, under heaven_

_***_

_Strange things happen when it could either be considered late evening or very early morning._

_Steve watched Natasha turn and walk down the hallway.  And he didn’t let another second pass before he was following her.  He stood in the doorway to the long and narrow bathroom.  The counter and the mirror above spanned roughly four feet, with the sink right in the middle._

_Cold water ran over her finger from the faucet.  Natasha wanted to splash it on her face right now because she felt like her nerves were stammering with the way Steve was looking at her…With how she was looking back at him through the mirror.  Steve tried.  He tried to stop himself for going any further.  But the more they talked, the more confused he felt about his anger.  And he hated how they’d left things outside._

_That wasn’t them.  Maybe it wasn’t time for answers, but it was time to rectify the barren feeling that filled them from earlier._

_Steve cast a stone and made another ripple._

_He took two steps to stand behind her as Natasha held her breath.  He was close enough that he could smell her hair now.  Finding her hand under the water, he brushed along her index finger, rubbing the red skin with his thumb.  As the cool liquid surrounded them, Steve never took his eyes off of her._

_Natasha was as good as gone, and so was he._

_She drew her lip in her teeth as Steve stepped a little closer, officially marking the distance between them as intimately close, “Does it hurt, Natasha?”  Internal voices and logic were left beyond the doorway as she shut her eyes and caved, “Everything hurts, Steve.  All the time.  And then you showed up tonight, and I can’t.  I can’t even think straight.”_

_Steve felt her skin, could smell her hair, and heard the change in her voice.  He’d tried to hate her, but he still loved her.  He was still so angry with her, but he needed her in his arms more.  He had so many questions for her, but he couldn’t muster the courage to end this right now, in order to demand answers.  And it scared him to death realizing once again, his will power was nothing when it came to her.  The original plan of arresting her?  It was so foreign right now that it was laughable._

_Anticipation purred, and Steve lowered his head, brushing his lips by her ear, “I hurt all the time too, Natasha.”  He took another step forward, but there was nowhere else to go.  She was flush against him as the air became heavy with the familiar pull.  Her hips molded against the counter as his pushed into her behind._

_Natasha could feel the tension tick, opening her eyes again to see that Steve’s were dilated now.  Finding leverage as her hand settled on the cheap counter, she nudged against him as the friction between the Lycra and cotton fabric increased.  Rubbing back in response, his thighs stiffened.  Silent moves that had silent responses as the heat curled between them._

_Her lips parted, letting a soft sigh escape.  The rush between their legs was thrilling as he lowered his lips to her neck.  Natasha could feel that Steve was just as turned on as she was.  They were as aroused as they’d been outside.  But it was different as they kept watch on each other in the mirror._

_It was wrong, but Natasha knew there were scars and tattoos on her back that would ruin everything right now if he saw them, and she needed him like she needed to keep feeling the cool water on their hands right now.  So, she craned her head towards him.  The buzz in the air invaded their senses and Steve didn’t fight it.  Circling her with his arm, he tilted her chin with a gentle grasp.  He held her close for a second as he continued watching her in the mirror.  Until he finally looked down, connecting with the same dark pools of need in her eyes._

_She wanted this just as much as he did._

_Humid breaths whirled back and forth as they paused, silently asking each other if they were going down this road again.  Another graze of his hips and her mouth opened a little more.  His answer and her reaction, and Steve couldn’t stay away any longer.  Her lips beckoned as he found her soft skin.  The kiss wasn’t tentative, but it was gentle with purpose at first.  And then a tug of war of pressure ensued as their lips found a little more release against each other.  A hum from the back of her throat.  A forceful huff of air from his nose.  It was all so evocative as the tension tingled between their mouths and everywhere else._

_They were past the point of no return now._

_Steve pulled their hands from the water as he tangled their fingers and pinned them on the counter.  They’d been running hot and cold all night.  Hot with anger at the Palace.  Cold with silence in the truck.  Burning hot outside and cold as they came indoors.  And now?  They’d gone from running their fingers under cold water, to feeling warm, to now burning hotter than they had all night within seconds._

_They needed to feel good, and they were always good at **this.**_

_Wet and sloppy kisses now ran rampant.  Licking his beard.  Laving at her chin.  Sucking sounds followed, all mixing with the running water.  Both palms pushed into the counter now as Natasha arched her back, as what hid within the confines of his pants, made itself known.  A low grumble rose in his throat as he nipped at the pulsing on her neck._

_Steve felt a little dizzy from it all.  And Natasha bit down on her own lip to feel a little release._

_“Steve.”_

_“Natasha.”_

_Their names came out with a husky sound, tickling each other’s skin.  She could feel the warmth in her leggings, and he could feel his cock harden against her plump and round rear, as she skimmed back and forth, and back and forth, and back and forth again._

_Turning away, Natasha found his eyes again in the mirror as they stared at each other in the most voyeuristic of ways.  He could see each pant, and she drank in each swallow.  His moves were slow and hers alluring at first, but they grew bolder.  The clenching of his jaw.  The squeezing of his hand now over hers.  The softest of gasps escaping her as his hand encircled her waist, sliding down to toy with the band on her leggings._

_Natasha didn’t want him to delay as she drew her lip between her teeth again and gave a single nod, and Steve answered.  Dipping his hand inside the elastic material, he found her warm skin inside._

_“Fuck.”_

_She hadn’t put on underwear when she’d changed.  Trying to calm himself, Steve pressed his lips in a straight line as he closed his eyes for a second, “Touch me, Steve.”  It wasn’t a question or request, but a demanding plea.  He opened his eyes, and saw that she looked like she was ready to combust.  She wouldn’t have had to ask, but he was so relieved she did.  Honestly, he felt the same way._

_Steve drew her waist flush against him in his firm grasp.  Their eyes flickered, darting down to his hidden hand. Inching lower inside the thin fabric, they watched it stretch and contort as his fingers ran through her soft hair, leading him to what they both needed and wanted._

_Natasha wet her lips.  Steve’s Adam’s apple bobbed.  And then he brushed over her clit, and slid right through her slick folds as she tried holding back a muted cry.  Two fingers.  No waiting or teasing.  Two long, thick fingers pushed inside, as they were devoured by her wet heat._

_His hand held hers tight in his grasp on the counter as she melted into his touch.  Each breath from him on her neck.  Each quiver on her lips like she was gasping for air.  Not being able to wait anymore, Natasha started moving against Steve and around him, stretching up on her toes.  Her ass grinded against him, and his dick pulsed in his sweats.  Her hips were slow at first, as his fingers felt every sensational wave around them._

_God, Steve was enthralled by her.  Her sighs quickly turned to breathless moans.  She’d been his siren in his drawings and dreams, and now she was here, in person as his muse, moving beneath his hold.  Somehow in that moment, what’d been creeping inside all night, became fact as an admission burst through his head.  He still loved her and knew he was doomed to never love anyone else._

_She was in leggings and a sweatshirt.  He in sweats and a tee.  And somehow, being completely covered, without hardly any skin showing at all, it was still one of the most erotic moments either had ever experienced together._

_Being able to only see the movement of his hand inside her.  Only hearing the wet sounds of their insatiable hunger.  And watching their jaws and cheeks and foreheads stretch as taut muscles moved with each expression. Yes, it was sensual and arousing, but it wasn’t just lust or pure animalistic need, like what had engrossed them outside.  That was always part of it with Steve and Natasha.  But this was also them falling back.  And not just into the familiarity of their pull, but also into the internal admission of their feelings for one another._

_Her moans caused Steve to focus as her lips coated him in heat.  Explicit sounds mixed with the running water to fill the air.  Steve was completely lost in all of her perfection.  And Natasha could think of nothing else, except his eyes and his fingers as she moved quicker, now rutting against his hand._

_It’d be three achingly long years since they were together, yes.  But outside, Steve wasn’t able to really look at her.  And now?  He could see everything.  And god, how he missed seeing the way her eyes lit up and darkened as she succumbed to him.  Natasha had longed for how his hands felt on her, in her, and all around her.  They remembered how much they understood from just one look.  And they felt the temptation of how they used to be, now stronger than ever with each sight and sound and touch._

_Yes, Steve was enthralled.  He couldn’t stop watching her, and she couldn’t stop fucking his hand as they both picked up the pace.  The heel of his palm, pushed onto her mound, finding her swollen peak.  He held her close, and she was tightly trapped between the thrusts of his fingers and his prodding erection against her ass.  Each undulation of her hips.  Each probe of his calloused tips.  Each pant and trickle of water.  It was all so much and not enough, but Steve wanted to see her come apart at the seams._

_Writhing faster now, she braced her hands as her hips bucked harder against him now.  Steve could tell how close she was already, as his chin fell on her shoulder to whisper in her ear, “Come for me, Nat.  Come apart for me.”_

_He met her eyes again, and they never left each other this time as his fingers pulled away from her pussy, now circling her bundle of nerves.  Hands pushed into the counter, and she was gone.  Three slow circles as wetness swamped their senses.  And then rapid rotations followed until she was approaching the brink, whimpering frantically.  Steve tightened his hold on her, and didn’t let go.  He didn’t let go of her hand or her heat.  And he didn’t let go of her stare as she lost herself in his touch._

_She fell over the edge, and Natasha convulsed against his fingers as her whimpers became cries.  Steve sucked at her soft skin, running his beard over the dip in her neck, but it wasn’t enough.  Once was never enough in their past, and the same was true now._

_Yes, they’d found each other outside, but right now?  The same enticing thirst was there that was in their past.  And Steve was achingly hard in his pants, and couldn’t help but rub against her ass.  She turned her head again, desperately seeking his lips as her words came out through her kiss, “I still mean it, Steve.”_

_His hand pressed down over hers.  His heart skipped a beat, “What do you mean, Nat?”_

_She shouldn’t.  And nothing that was said now, would make her actually tell him the truth, except for the truth that overran her heart, “The note.  I still mean every word, Steve.”_

_He shut his eyes for a second and rested his forehead against hers.  Steve felt like he was on a razor’s edge and could cry and scream in anger, or he could keep dancing on the tightrope of desire they were on.  Steve made a choice and pulled his hand from her leggings as she gasped from the sensation.  He made a choice to stay on the wire of nerves and want and unspoken love they were both on._

_Steve drew his other hand from hers, settling both on her hips.  He found her eyes again in their reflection.  His lashes fluttered as Natasha wriggled her ass against him again, telling him she needed more of him too.  Steve flexed right back, as the throbbing became too much.  He yanked his own sweats and boxers to the floor first, and then peeled her leggings down her hips, finally leaving them bare.  Natasha found purchase, leaning both hands onto the counter now.  She arched her back next, and threw her head back towards him.  With the way she was angling her body, she was almost presenting herself to Steve.  A low rolling sound came out, almost like a growl.  He was leaking with a deprived sense of need._

_He desired every inch of her, but they felt like they were burning up.  And Natasha just hoped and pled silently that Steve wouldn’t lift her sweatshirt and question her about the images on her back._

_“Steve,” she begged with the urge in her voice._

_“Natasha,” he answered with a strangled sound._

_See, hear, and touch.  Three senses that had infected them so far.  Steve needed more as he brushed his fingers along his tongue that were just inside her and he groaned.  The scent of her musk pilfered the air around him, and he moved._

_Every inch of his ache teased along her slick, and she keened, causing his breathing to stutter.  Steve couldn’t wait anymore.  Cradling her hips, he dug his fingers into the supple flesh beneath.  And with one quick snap, he impaled her heat.  It was like the air pushed through her stomach as he filled her, moving up her chest and out her throat as her lips parted into an O._

_Husked breaths came out of their mouths.  They couldn’t stop looking into each other’s eyes in the mirror.  Natasha tried to move, just like she had on his hand.  But he wouldn’t let her.  He held her still, relishing the feel of being inside her again.  She couldn’t wriggle or squirm with his strength surrounding her._

_“Tell me,” her words came out, sounding almost unhinged, “Tell me, Steve.”_

_They didn’t actually say the words lingering in their hearts, but they said everything else.  Steve understood what she was asking as he whispered, “I still mean it too, Nat.”_

_Her eyes shimmered as the warmth expanded in her heart.  He pulled out, leaving just the tip in as he saw the wanton look on her face.  Plunging all the way back in just as quick, a throaty cry came out of her.  He repeated the motion, again and again, building the ache and pull each time.  Fingers digging in to her slender waist.  Her hands rigid on the counter, taking every inch of him each time.  It felt right, and so much better already, than it did outside._

_It felt like them._

_Her cries became a little louder, as his dripping cock finally filled her pussy to the hilt, bottoming out as a grunt came out of him.  Steve pulled out again, and moved slower this time.  And within seconds a steady pace was set with each deliberate roll of his hips.  Holding her tight and still, he buried into her entrance from behind, but Natasha didn’t stop._

_Steve smirked, feeling the muscles in her hips and rear, ripple and coil as she tried to meet him each time. The pressure was addictive and obscene, making them both feel a little wild.  Building a little more speed, he loosened his hold as Natasha blurted out in a rasped breath, “Yes.”_

_She was finally pushing hard enough against him to start meeting his thrusts.  Her ass slapping against him.  Every inch of his cock losing itself in her heat.  The rhythmic thudding of flesh, filling the space between them.  And his groaning with her whimpering all mixed with the water still running._

_And all the while, their eyes remained frozen, not able to even glance away from each other’s pupils blown wide.  Natasha’s knuckles turned white as she bounced harder into each drive of his.  Steve ran one hand up her side as it came up to the column on her neck with her melding into his touch.  He caressed her throat as he moved faster and her breathy moans became louder._

_His fingers inched into her mouth as she bit and then sucked on the ends, making him move at a relentless pace now.  They were completely gone in the fog around them.  He grunted as she licked his fingers, tasting herself on him as a mewl came out of her.  And he needed more.  Steve dug his nails into her waist with one hand as his other slid down and went under her sweatshirt in the front.  He found her breast instantly as he rubbed and tugged at her nipple._

_But it wasn’t enough, they needed to somehow feel closer as she panted, “Steve, hold me.”_

_He blinked and saw her fingers moving on the counter.  Steve didn’t need to be told twice.  He pulled out from her shirt and covered her hand, intertwining their fingers again.  They held onto each other’s grasp, squeezing against each other’s knuckles and palms._

_Steve groaned louder as his pace turned frenzied.  Natasha had climaxed only a little bit ago and knew Steve would get there before her this time.  But neither of them wanted that.  They needed to see and feel their collapse together.  She took her other hand as she fell into his embrace.  Succumbing completely to his hold on her waist and hand on the counter, she sank in the envelope of his muscular arms.  He anchored them both as Natasha slid her fingers down, to repeat the same moves Steve just had._

_“I’m close, Nat,” he heaved._

_“I know,” She panted._

_He pulled out and plunged back inside her, sinking into her soaking wet heat.  His thrusting turned erratic now as she lost control and went along for the ride.  Her fingers circled her sensitive flesh with her eyes threatening to close.  But his voice cut through the air, “I wanna see you, Nat.  I want you to see us together.”_

_The scent became heady and the sounds primal as she felt the build come from within.  The heat began in her core as the warmth grew inside, and the fire in his groin swelled through his chest and each limb._

_And they were there.  The surge burst in Steve as he came inside her swollen walls.  Her fingers stopped rolling as she dissolved, feeling each spasm around him and inside her.  His hips slowed as his release came out, filling her, and her fingers drew away, seeking out the base of his neck._

_Natasha pulled him down as their lips searched and found each other, kissing tenderly through each pant and breath and shudder.  And unspoken but shared love, filled their hearts as they savored the blissful haze surrounding them._

* * *

_Steve pulled out gently while holding onto her and kissing her cheek.  They pulled their pants up as Natasha turned around and brought him close to her again.  Without saying anything, they both knew no matter what happened, they never wanted to feel like they had outside ever again._

_This situation was a mess, and nothing had really changed with regards to her telling him anything about why she’d done what she had.  But **everything** had changed with regards to what they were admitting to themselves, and the paths they were moving toward now.  _

_Her forehead fell to his chest, “I think about you every night too, Steve.  Can we just go lay down and sleep for the rest of the night?”_

_This wasn’t the last second they were together on this borrowed night.  This stolen evening.  But Steve could feel it starting to slip from his grasp.  Natasha was right.  Steve knew he couldn’t arrest her.  For all the reasons she’d said and he’d been denying.  But he also knew he would never be able to stand by and watch her be put in prison back in the States.  Or worse, he’d never be able to live with himself if something happened to her after being put in prison, like being taken away by the CIA and put in a blackhole somewhere._

_He didn’t understand her actions.  He didn’t even understand how in the hell he’d really ended up here now, in a safehouse in Russia.  But he was here.  Somehow, Steve had come to Russia, found Natasha, and now here they were._

_And they were at a crossroads in their time together, forcing ripples they couldn’t see or predict._

_Natasha couldn’t predict how deep Steve’s spiral would go.  How he would start living two lives, trying to track and find her again after this weekend.  And Steve didn’t understand that right now, tonight, was the moment when Natasha finally decided to course correct._

_Natasha decided that she was going to do everything in her power, to fuck over Ivan and Oksana.  They may have gotten her to betray and steal and run three years ago.  But being around Steve and feeling his strength and need for her.  His desire to protect her.  It gave her strength.  It gave her courage.  And it made her think, of how much she hated the fact that she’d been away from him._

_She couldn’t go back and erase what she did to him and the team.  She couldn’t take back any of the other transgressions she’d committed over the last three years.  But what Natasha could do, was make Ivan and Oksana pay.  She could start fighting for what was right, and her own self-worth again.  She could fight so that maybe one day, there would be a time when her and Steve could be together again._

_The ripples created by Natasha’s actions three years ago had pushed them apart.  But the actions by Steve tonight, had unknowingly put them on the path they’d be headed on for years and years down the road._

_Sometimes, the purpose in time isn’t realized until later on.  Sometimes, there are no acceptable reasons for why something bad happens in the moment, like what had happened to Natasha in her life, or what both her and Steve had been through over the last three years._

_But the ripples from this crossroad, would change their direction forever.  And that course correction would help Natasha and Steve both realize years down the road, that even though horrifying things happen, surviving and making things right together would be how they could find purpose._

_“Yeah, Nat.  Let’s go to bed.”_

_Steve kissed her forehead and lifted her up as her legs wrapped around him.  He carried her the short distance to the bed in the tiny, one-bedroom house.  And he pulled the blanket over them as they fell asleep in each other’s arms, thinking of all that had happened, and wondering about everything that would happen after._

_Yes, they were at a crossroads, and the darkest times on their tragic journey still lie ahead of them.  There is a time for everything.  Without even realizing what this stolen moment in time’s purpose was yet, Steve and Natasha had actually started on the long road to forgiveness._

_***_

_A time to heal_

_A time to weep_

_A time for peace_

_A time for love_

_To everything (turn, turn, turn)_

_There is a season (turn, turn, turn)_

_And a time to every purpose, under heaven_

_***_

* * *

**Present Day –** Task-Force Compound

The day and evening after the FBI was attacked went by rather quickly.  And Steve and Natasha found themselves alone again at night.  Only this time it was in their bedroom.    

Last night, they’d been so tired after beginning to reconnect when Steve returned to the compound, that they barely made it under the blanket by the time their heads hit the mattress.   

Tonight was different, though.

Tonight, there was a charge in the air from the energy of the day.  Natasha was scared to dive into anything from her 21 months of darkness.  But she’d meant it the night before, when she told Steve she was willing to try.  She wanted to, for both her and him, and she wanted to try and remember for the team.  To figure out what was hiding in the shadows of her mind. 

What couldn’t she remember?

Her motivation was there, but Natasha didn’t know where to begin.  Neither did Steve as they nervously stood holding each other’s hands, like they were some teenagers trying to figure out what to say next. 

Natasha saw her journal on the end table and went to sit on the bed as she pulled it into her lap, “I know you read all of this, Steve.  I’m so glad, because in a way, you got to read and feel what I was thinking when we were apart.  Sometimes I wish you had a journal that I could’ve read.”

Steve realized something.  In planning out the safehouse, Tony and everyone sent over some of their necessities, depending on how long they would be hunkered down for.  Steve had sent over needed items from his apartment yes, but he’d also sent over some of the boxed-up memories from their life together. 

Steve didn’t know if or when they would even look at the stuff, but he knew he didn’t want to leave it in his apartment, when he or Bucky or Wanda weren’t there.  He went to the closet and grabbed four boxes and set them down at the foot of the bed.  The lamp provided a soft glow as they put their sweats on.  Steve gave Natasha one of his old FBI hoodies that he’d packed up from his apartment too.  She used to love wearing it and had the cutest smile on her face as she held it in her hands. 

Natasha slipped it on and almost swam in it from how large it was on her, but she didn’t care.  She was covered head to toe in loose fitting clothing.  And Steve might as well have been looking at her at the Political Gala in Russia, because that’s how beautiful she looked to him right now. 

She blushed from his gaze, “What’s in the boxes, Steve?”

A nervous tension all of a sudden filled the air as they sat cross-legged on the floor next to each other.  Steve hadn’t opened them in a _long_ _time_.  Each box sacredly held cherished memories in them like their ticket stubs and pictures and little trinkets from their life together.  But mostly, the boxes were filled with the images and pages, conveying the darkest times that Steve found himself in over the last seven years.  It was unnerving to go back into that world right now, just as he was sure it would be odd for Natasha to actually open up and read her journal in front of him. 

“I…I know you said, you wished I kept a journal.  In some ways I did, Nat.  Just in my own way.  I didn’t write when I was lost or angry or in pain.  I drew.  It’s what I knew, and it’s how some of what needed to, came out without me even realizing it.  I see that now.  In these boxes, you’ll see most of what I drew and sketched over the last seven years.”

The expression on her face was filled with a mixture of sadness and disbelief as Steve continued, “I know I read your journal while you were sleeping, so if you want to be alone while you look through these, I can go downstairs…”  She grabbed Steve’s hand before he even had a chance to finish talking and shook her head, “No.  I don’t want to do this alone, Steve.  I want you here with me.  I _need_ you here with me.”  Steve was so relieved as he held her hand because he didn’t want them to be alone right now either.

Steve thought Natasha was going to open up a box and dive in, but she didn’t.  Instead, she once again surprised him deep to his core.  Because she looked down at their hands as she started talking about what she hadn’t yet.  Her 21 months in the dark.

* * *

_Hello darkness, my old friend_

_I’ve come to talk with you again_

_Because a vision softly creeping_

_Left its seeds while I was sleeping_

_And the vison that was planted in my brain_

_Still remains_

_Within the sound of silence_

***

**_21 Months Ago –_ **

_Natasha woke on the cold, cemented ground.  Her head was pounding and as she started to sit up in a groggy state, but she couldn’t._

_Her arm buckled as her body cried out while she fell back to the ground.  Natasha focused on the cool sensation of the concrete against her cheek as she told herself what her and Steve always said to each other, when they’d wake from a bad dream, “Just breathe.”_

_But her breathing only made her focus on the pain in her chest as flashes of what happened started blinding her senses.  Her body was covered with scrapes and bruises.  Lifting her hand slowly to her cheek, Natasha hissed.  Her face was puffy and her lip was split as she tasted the dried blood that’d ran down her chin.  The first thought that came to mind, was that she felt like she’d been tossed around in a dump truck full of jagged rocks.  The soreness in her shoulder and chest from a moment ago started registering everywhere else as her body was inundated with pain._

_Her back.  Her legs.  Her feet and hands.  Her face.  And her stomach._

_Natasha rolled onto her back, groaning but finding a way to breathe as she tried to make out the basics.  Where was she?  How did she get here?  When was it?_

_But she regretted the questions as soon as they were asked.  Because as she caught a glimpse of the tiny barred window to the outside, and saw the moonlight peeking in, she took in her surroundings and started to remember._

_Natasha was in a cemented cell, that was recessed in the ground.  That much she could tell from her positioning to the ground level window with steel bars, that was almost out of her reach.  The window looked like it was ajar right now but only opened and closed from the outside._

_Maybe there was a way out.  But she rolled her head from side to side, and there was nothing except an old scratchy army blanket on the floor, a toilet, and a stainless steel cup of water that sat by the door, with a piece of bread on top of it.  The door was old and bolted from the outside.  That was all there was in the small cemented cell.  Nothing else but her battered and bruised body._

_Nothing else but darkness and silence._

_And then her brain started yelling the answers to the questions she’d just asked.  When was it?  Natasha thought it was the same week that her and Clint had returned from Kazakhstan.  Yes.  It had to be.  They had succeeded and stopped Poseidon’s cash intake.  And then she remembered coming back, and going and getting her tattoos.  But the image of the bathroom with the pregnancy test flashed through her mind._

_“No.  No, no…please,” Natasha’s words were disjointed and quiet, as the plastic stick and all her questions about IUD’s went through her head.  And then she remembered what happened after she’d gotten the tattoos._

_“NO!” Natasha choked out as her hands immediately went to her stomach.  It hurt to move and breathe and as she pushed into her belly with trepidation.  She was desperate as emotion battled the pain that was running through her._

_Her breaths became shorter as Natasha’s hands trembled.  Her pleas and cries were silent now, as what happened started to fill in.  She knew.  Just as she’d known before she actually took the test what the result would be, she knew now that something had changed._

_She knew._

_She stopped her tentative brushes over her stomach as the horrifying truth settled in her heart.  She began to shake as she shut her eyes tight and held her breath.  Natasha didn’t want to remember anymore.  But it didn’t matter._

_She’d been taken._

_Both her and Clint were after she’d returned from changing her tattoos._

_Ivan and Oksana were enraged with the failed mission in Kazakhstan.  They tried to get information out of Natasha, but she didn’t say anything.  They sent Rumlow in and they’d fought for a long period of time._

_She’d gotten several kicks and punches in on him, and even had him in a choke hold with her legs, but he hit her stomach and Natasha protectively flinched, and lost the upper hand.  Rumlow flipped her onto her back as her body slammed into the ground.  He rolled her onto her stomach, pinning her firmly to the floor, and her shirt inadvertently rose up.  Natasha started squirming immediately to try and hide what was there, but it was too late.  Rumlow noticed the fresh ink on her back and called Ivan and Oksana over._

_She’d wanted to give the biggest ‘fuck you’ to them.  And it just backfired, to a frightening extent._

_Natasha tried everything to hide in the hole she’d dug herself into, with all the evidence of what was going on in her body displayed for them to see.  But it was too late.  It was bad enough that words like Freedom, Steve, Love, and America were on her back now.  But when they got to the Russian word for ‘Child,’ Oksana unforgivingly grabbed Natasha’s face and looked in her eyes._

_Her irises gave away the trepidation inside as Rumlow’s words echoed in Natasha’s ears, “I fucking told you she was with Rogers that weekend three months ago.  Stupid bitch got knocked up by her American soldier.  Well where’s your soldier now, Romanoff?”_

_Fear flooded Natasha’s eyes as Oksana saw the truth.  Natasha, the best of spies, couldn’t hide in that moment because everything had happened so quick._

_Not even a day had passed.  She didn’t even have 24 hours to process the information she’d just learned in a dark and dingy bathroom.  As hard as Natasha tried to cover it up with a stone-cold expression, her eyes gave it away.  Oksana shoved her face back to the ground and spit on her, ranting in Russian about being disgusted as she walked away._

_Being taken was the beginning of Natasha’s 21 months of darkness.  And she wished she had been tossed around in a dump truck, because it would have been easier to swallow, than what happened over the following three days._

_Punching and fighting.  Pain and bruising.  Kicks and slams into the wall._

_The specifics didn’t need to be re-hashed in Natasha’s mind.  Because the truth of what happened was seared into her heart as the beatings took place._

_Natasha wouldn’t tell them anything about Clint or Kazakhstan or the mercenaries or their plan.  She knew it didn’t matter, because the end result would’ve still been the same.  Not even 24 hours had passed since her pregnancy became known as the endless hitting began.  And she’d miscarried by the end of the first day as a result.  Her handlers forced a doctor to see her and take care of what had happened as Ivan demanded, “We need her alive, so fix her.”_

_Natasha was sedated but remembered begging the Doctor to stop as her hands kept going to her stomach.  She remembered the look in the Doctor’s eyes.  He may have worked for Ivan and Oksana, but something about what was happening even disturbed him, but he did as he was told.  He cleaned up the blood coming out of her, completed his procedure and made sure she was alive, as Ivan demanded._

_Part of the reason Dr. Erskine stood out to Natasha so much, was that he had the nerve and courage to stand up and say no to her handlers.  He was brave in his own way, doing what was right in a moment when he had no reason to.  That was not the case with most people Ivan and Oksana ‘employed.’_

_Most people fell in line._

_Natasha was asleep after the Doctor was done.  And she woke up, feeling empty.  She knew the baby was gone, and the Doctor had made sure she was medically okay after her miscarriage.  Medically okay and alive, yes.  But empty and anything but okay, in every other sense of the word._

_Clint got to see her shortly after as he ran his hands along her cheek, seeing just how bloodied and bruised her body was.  He was crying to her as he whispered, “Tasha, what happened?  Jones and Cage and the team will be here soon.  We just have to make it a little longer, and I promise we’ll be out of here.”  Natasha recoiled, disgusted with herself, and turned away from him, not being able to think of anything except for what she’d lost.  She curled into her body, sinking into the despairing void as her hands held her stomach._

_“Goodbye, Clint.”_

_Clint was given his moment with his sister and was forced from her room.  He’d never seen her like that before and was shaken to his core.  He was filled with dread and fear for what happened to her.  But before anything could be done, she would be taken permanently.  That was the last thing Natasha said to him, and would be the last time he’d see her for almost two years._

_Natasha brought out her journal soon after he was gone.  She peeled up a floorboard, revealing the hidden space beneath, and ran her hands over the leather hiding inside.  She touched where her first entry and photograph were hidden, glued inside the leather binding.  And her tears stained the cover._

_Her connection to Steve.  Plans of escapes were out the window in that moment as she laid down holding the journal, and crying herself to sleep.  Crying harder than she ever remembered, Natasha realized the consequences from careless mistakes as she cradled the one connection she still had to her love.  And she was left feeling like she’d failed him yet again because their child was gone._

_Oksana found her curled in a ball in her room and grabbed the journal immediately.  And all Natasha remembered, was that she didn’t care anymore.  Steve was gone from her life.  And something she never imagined, a baby, was gone from this world almost as soon as Natasha made the discovery in her world._

_She didn’t care.  Natasha was lost and hopeless as Oksana flipped through the journal and saw her entries of love and longing to Steve.  Natasha pressed her fingers into her stomach as the hatred for herself and everything about her life filled her.  And Oksana read on about vague plans of taking down Poseidon._

_And that was it._

_The journal was tossed on the table and Natasha was taken.  Oksana personally tied her wrists, and Natasha didn’t even fight her as she was thrown into the cell she woke up in now._

_Yes, all of her questions were answered as Natasha now lay on the concrete ground, and she wished they weren’t.  She wished she couldn’t remember anything from the last several days, and that she was just a prisoner with amnesia.  The moon stared down at her, mocking her from its position of freedom in the evening sky._

_And all Natasha could do was shut her eyes again and sob.  All of the planning.  All of the pain she’d put her loved ones through with her betrayal.  All of her and Clint’s plotting to take Poseidon down, and this was where she ended up anyway.  Stubborn and strong-willed and fierce Natasha, had met her breaking point, and she felt like it was a foregone conclusion._

_But her body still shook as the bolts to the wooden door started rattling.  She wouldn’t remember a great deal from her captivity.  But the flashes and the sounds within the silent walls that accompanied a certain few memories, were seared into her brain.  Just like this one, which unfortunately wasn’t one of the forgotten memories.  It was one she remembered every detail of._

_Ivan and Oksana walked in as Rollins stood guard, “You think you can replace your tattoos and be born again as a true American, Yelena?”  Oksana’s voice was chilling as she stood over her.  Then Oksana hunched down, nearing Natasha’s face on the ground, “You think your perfect Captain will ever want you now, knowing you lost his child?”_

_Whether it was Rollins or Rumlow, or Ivan or Oksana who actually had the punishing blow that forced the miscarriage, Natasha would never know.  But right now, it seemed the fight wasn’t all out of Natasha.  Because despite the pain and bruises and broken feeling inside, a rage consumed her in that moment._

_How dare Oksana even talk about Steve and what she’d lost.  Oksana was above her, still trying to push her down, even though she’d taken everything from her._

_Yes, her rage **consumed** her._

_Natasha’s body screamed, but it was a small price to pay.  She rolled onto her side quickly and swept Oksana’s legs out from under her, causing her to fall flat on her back.  All of a sudden, the angles were reversed, but Natasha didn’t just stand hunched over Oksana now._

_No.  Natasha, even now in her weakened state, was stronger than Oksana physically.  And she didn’t stand a chance to fight back as Natasha pinned her between her legs.  Her fingers went right around Oksana’s throat._

_Natasha’s eyes burned with a fury as her thumbs squeezed the oxygen from Oksana.  And she saw it._

_For the first time in Natasha’s entire existence, she saw the glimpse of fear creep into Oksana’s eyes.  And all Natasha wanted to keep doing was squeeze even more.  Her thumbs and fingers dug into Oksana’s throat, feeling the trachea beneath her skin.  Ragged gasps pushed out of Oksana’s lungs, and it wasn’t enough.  Natasha’s nails dug hard enough into her skin, that blood was seeping out as she found a way to squeeze harder around her wind pipe and lift her head up to slam it back into the ground._

_Oksana’s fingers and legs started twitching beneath Natasha, and it felt good.  It was the only feeling coursing through Natasha right now, and it sure as hell beat the wretched pain that had filled her moments ago.  And that would be waiting for her after, “You keep your eyes open, Oksana.  You keep them open as I watch you die.”_

_Natasha’s voice was cold and menacing, more so than she could ever remember, but she didn’t care.  All that mattered was her rage and extracting every last breath out of the woman who’d caused her so much pain._

_But it was all cut short as Ivan’s voice echoed and boomed through the cell, “Yelena, stop.  Stop or your helper, Dr. Erskine will meet his fate.”_

_Rumlow drug Erskine into the room as Natasha’s face shot up in terror.  He was covered in his own bruises.  More scrapes.  More pain.  More blood.  More.  More.  More._

_Another consequence of her life.  Another expendable person at Ivan and Oksana’s disposal.  Her grip on Oksana loosened as Ivan grabbed Natasha by her hair and threw her off of his wife.  Oksana cowered away, coughing and wheezing, and holding onto her throat, trying to take in all the oxygen she could._

_And Natasha just stared at Erskine.  He didn’t deserve this.  He had tried to do what was right.  She brought him back into this world by asking him to help her with the tattoos.  And Natasha pleaded with Ivan to let him go.  But she knew in her already broken heart, that her pleas were useless._

_What Natasha remembered most in that moment, wasn’t the panic and fear coursing through her own veins.  No, quite the opposite.  It was the fact that she couldn’t see any signs of fear in Erskine.  He gave her a shallow nod, as if he’d accepted his fate.  Her eyes betrayed her as they shined with brimming tears.  She didn’t want to let them see that this was causing her pain, but she was at the end of her rope._

_Ivan spoke, “Dr. Erskine, you were warned when we let you walk away, that it was your one and only strike.  I thought you’d be smarter than to help our traitorous Natasha.  So, now you have a chance to make up for the mess you made on her back.  To cover up that disgusting word for child and replace it with this.”_

_Ivan showed Erskine a piece of paper with a symbol on it, as Oksana limped over and grabbed the image before forcing it into Natasha’s face, “Not so tough when you know we have someone else’s life in our hands, are you Natasha?”_

_Natasha saw the hourglass symbol as Oksana went on through her ragged breaths, “Do you know the myth of the black widow?  The spider with one of the deadliest of bites, carries a red hourglass symbol on its body.  And do you know why?  Because they are a harbinger of death.  They kill what is around them, and then they kill who they have been destined to be with, their mates.  That is what you are, Natasha.  You killed your chance at ranking high in Poseidon.  You could have returned us all to the mother land.  You killed your chance at your stupid and foolish dreams when you betrayed your team.  Love is for children, Yelena.  You should have learned that by now, because you killed your chance with your precious soldier, when you killed your child.”_

_Erskine spoke over Oksana.  He didn’t even hesitate at what he knew they were asking him to do, “I should’ve never taken your money in the first place all those years ago.  I’ve given every penny I could since leaving, to orphanages here in the States, so that other children may be given chances that you stole from so many others.  I will **never** help you or what you represent ever again.”_

_Ivan sneered, “Foolish man, Erskine.  You’ve apparently never met someone like me.”_

_Erskine shook his head and had a glimmer in his eye as he looked at Natasha, with an acceptance, “I believe you are the foolish man, Ivan.  There are **always** people like you.  And as long as there are always people like you, there will be something and someone to stand against.”_

_Oksana walked up to him and got in his face, “You’ve met your fate, old man.”_

_Erskine didn’t miss a beat, “I met my fate the minute you brought me here.  Don’t pretend like you would’ve let me live, no matter if I helped or not.  I’ll say it again.  I will never help you or what you represent ever again.”_

_Natasha started begging as the nauseating feeling rose in her stomach, because she knew.  She knew what was going to happen before it did, “Please don’t do this.  Ivan, please!”_

_Her voice was hoarse, and Ivan didn’t even acknowledge her.  He and Oksana glared at Erskine’s defiant stance, before nodding to Rumlow.  “NO!  No.  No.  Rumlow, don’t do this.”  Natasha knew it was no use, but she couldn’t stop the pleading._

_Ivan and Oksana walked out, and Rumlow drew his gun as Natasha tried to stand and fight, but it was too late.  Rumlow whispered in his ear, “Time to meet your maker, Doc.”_

_Two shots rang through the cemented walls.  Two shots blared as silence followed.  Two shots caused Erskine’s blood to splatter on Natasha’s chest and face as she screamed, “No!”_

_Rumlow left as Erskine fell to the ground.  Natasha could hardly see through her tears as she ran over to him.  Her body was in so much pain already, but somehow, Ivan and Oksana succeeded in making it worse.  They found a way to make her broken heart bleed a little more._

_Erskine was gasping for what would be his final breaths as Natasha put her hands over his chest.  Her lips were shaking, violently so, as her tears mixed in with his blood pooling out between her fingers and over her hands, “I’m so sorry, Abraham.  I’m so sorry.”_

_He didn’t have long._

_Erskine looked up to Natasha and said through rasped breathing, “It doesn’t matter what you’ve done in the past.  It matters that you stay who you are.  Because you are not the spy they made you to be, and never were.  Remember, you are a good person in here, Natasha.”_

_The tremors in her body worsened as she kept saying, “No,” begging him to stay with her.  Erskine tried to lift his finger towards Natasha’s heart, but his last breath escaped him before he could.  His hand fell down on top of hers that were clutching his chest as she lurched forward and sobbed._

_It was all she could do as she held him in the dark and silence now.  She shook in the cold space as more of her tears landed on his cheek.  She shut his kind eyes and leaned down to kiss his forehead._

_Another life gone.  Another useless death in this horrifying world and all she could do was cry._

_She cried for Erskine.  She cried for Clint, not knowing what he was facing right now.  She cried for Steve and his safety, knowing that Ivan and Oksana’s revenge knew no bounds.  And she cried for herself and their child that was gone._

* * *

It was the first time Natasha had talked about any of her memories to Steve.  It was the first time she’d really talked about them at all, or even let herself really think of them.

Steve held her hand and wiped his eyes as she leaned her head on his shoulder now, with both their backs against the bed, “I mostly remember darkness and silence, Steve.  So much silence that I thought I was going deaf at times.  And it’s like there’s this void that I can’t find my way through, but I know there is something that I need to remember for us and the team.”

He pressed his fingers into her palm as she went on, “But then there are these moments that I remember so vividly.  Like the beginning that I just told you about.  And I wish I could forget, but I know I never will.  Erskine’s body was taken an hour later, and they brought another person in, to tattoo the hourglass on my back, covering up the word for ‘Child.’”

Steve was visibly shaken, hearing the beginning of Natasha’s time in captivity.  Part of him felt like he could be sick, but he tried to find the courage that Natasha had shown.  And that she spoke of Dr. Erskine having, “Natasha, I’m so sorry.  I’m sorry I wasn’t there.  God, that was a few months after you’d said goodbye to me…and I was so busy drowning in my sorrow and self-pity and loathing.  And all that while, you were being held against your will and hurt…you were hurt so much.  You had to watch Dr. Erskine get killed.  I wish…”

Steve struggled to continue as the overwhelming sensation of his guilt took hold.  But Natasha stopped him, nudging his shoulder and brushing her thumb over his knuckles, “Steve, I gave you good reason to be sad.  I was sad too.  I was sad for our goodbye, and I was sad for everything that happened after.  I still am…But I’m not sad I’m telling you right now.  I was scared before tonight to share any of this with you.  But right now, if you can believe it, it feels right to open up with you.”

Martin Luther King Jr. once said, “ _Darkness cannot drive out darkness.  Only light can do that.  Hate cannot drive out hate.  Only love can do that_.”

Truer words could not explain the precipice they were at right now. 

Steve and Natasha, joined by their hands, confronted this dark and horrific part of their history.  Or at least they started to.  Natasha thought of Dr. Erskine and how he had no reason at all to stand up against something dark in the world, except for the reason that mattered.  Because it was right.  And Steve thought of how his Mom had been brave, dealing with his father’s abuse, trying to protect him and Bucky from all the pain in the world.  He saw that same bravery and courage in Natasha now, multiplied by 3000.  She had always been brave, but this was something else.  The courage she had in her heart was radiating off of her like a light. 

Steve and Natasha found the resolve within themselves to keep going.  To keep pushing out the darkness in their hearts and souls, as they finally confronted the ghosts within their memories. 

The darkness and the hate. 

The hate they had towards their past and choices, and the consequences that followed.  The hate that they had for each other at times.  The hate they mostly had for themselves.  But all of the hate, _finally_ relented a little as the light began to heal.  And with the healing, without them even realizing it or putting a word on it, _trust was born again_. 

Yes, the pain and grief were permanent, but it didn’t have to paralyze.  Steve and Natasha were each other’s love and light, and as they embraced each other, the shards of agony piercing their hearts, began to recede. 

Somehow, sitting in the dark and quiet of their room in a hidden compound, sharing the most painful memories with each other, another tiny step forward was made.  The night before, they’d found a way to move toward something instead of holding back again. 

And now? 

It was painfully difficult, but needed more than ever.  Light and love and truth, were the only way through the darkest parts of their history.  Fury had been right.  They’re alive and here, safe.  That was what mattered.  Leaning into that light.  Exposing the dark and silent horrors, lingering in Natasha’s memories and Steve’s reeling thoughts was the _only_ way through this. 

And it felt right as just a little of the poisonous venom lost its grasp on their hearts.  That’s what happens when darkness is exposed.  It’s hold over a person is relinquished.  The more exposure the light offers, the less that can remain hidden in the shadows. 

Steve sniffed again and wiped his eyes as he grabbed the first box and opened it for Natasha. 

“We don’t have to look through a lot tonight, Natasha.  But I want you to know I felt ever word.  Every wish and thought you wrote to me in your journal.  And I want you to know that I would’ve waited for you, without you even asking me to.  You were it for me a long time ago, and I think by the time I got my head out of my ass after Russia, I finally realized that again.  Even when I didn’t think I had a choice in this life any more, I still chose you.  It’s been you for the last 12 years, and it’ll be you, forever.”

Steve lifted some of the pages and a sketch book out of the box as he handed them to Natasha.  She held them in her lap and looked at him, loving him more now, than she could ever remember, “You say you don’t journal, but you have a way with words when you want to, Steve.  I realized that a long time ago too…That you were it for me too.”

A little smile appeared through his glassy eyes, “Go ahead and look through them, Nat.  I’ll be right here.” 

And she did.  She thumbed through the pages.  Some were crisp, only being touched once or twice.  Some were wrinkled and worn.  And this was only the first box.  The first thing she noticed was all of the pain in the drawings.  She saw perfect replicas of her tattoos and scars on her back.  She knew that Steve must have drawn these, right after the cabin and her goodbye to him. 

And she felt it.

She felt his pain as she looked at the 14 circles with Russian words.  She saw the smudges of black charcoal where his tears permanently rested, over the sliced scarring on her lower back and the bullet hole scars to the left of her spine.  Just as his tears covered her scars two years ago, they’d covered these pages.  And just as his tears fused with hers in her journal, hers did right here as well. 

Steve saw her silent drops fall on page after page of his memories.  Pages that represented all of the torment on her physically.  And all that was wrong in their life.  The scars and tattoos were long gone from Steve’s sight after she’d said goodbye, but the vision was planted in his brain.  They still remained, as his forehead fell to her shoulder. 

All that filled the air was the ruffling of thick drawing paper, their quiet breathing, and their hushed sniffling and crying.  The dark was something they’d both become accustomed to as pain overwhelmed them in the previous years of life.  The sound of silence lingered in their heads as well, as they were lost in their memories of each other for as long as they could remember. 

And now? 

It was another equally beautiful and painful step on their road forward.  They were finally remembering what it was like to be each other’s light, and to lead each other through darkness.  To hear and listen to each other.  And to start to trust one another again. 

* * *

That was how Steve and Natasha went from drowning in their grief, to treading water, to finally starting to swim. 

Yes, they swam through the muck of darkness.  They’d never be rid of it _ever_.  But slowly, one-by-one, the barbed wires of pain lost their hold on their hearts.  It was grim and exhausting, but more needed than ever.

Night after night, they sat in their room in the compound, under the soft glow of the lamp.  They sat next to each other on the floor as they held each other and cried in their sweats, after each long day of searching with the team.  And each night that passed as they journeyed through both their happy and tragic memories, the trust that’d been born again, began to grow. 

Three days into the stay at the compound, Fury finally made contact with Phillips in Europe, and was told that British Intelligence’s main server was breached as well.  Natasha’s theory of attacking the U.S.’s Security and Defense structure, _and_ other world powers, became that much more believable. 

And Natasha was frustrated more and more with each passing day, because she still couldn’t remember whatever was nagging in her head.   A week into their stay at the compound, the team found out the NSA and Homeland both had break ins, but the data stolen wasn’t nearly as bad as the CIA and FBI. 

Bruce approached Natasha with an idea.  Whatever it was, he was nervous as he started talking, “Natasha, you’ve been great this week.  I know that you think there’s something you can’t remember that might be helpful.  And I know that you said you wished you knew more…I might have an idea.”

Natasha squeezed Steve’s hand before asking, “What do you mean, Bruce?”

Bruce went on, “I’m…I’m talking about what you might’ve heard and don’t remember during those 21 months.”  Now Steve squeezed her hand back protectively as she said, “Yeah, I know.  I really wish I could remember whatever it is that I know is inside me.”

Steve was being over protective and he knew it with the look he gave Banner, but Bruce pushed forward anyway, “I know that, Natasha.  I don’t want to push you.  But I just wanted to let you think about an idea I had…to see if maybe there’s some information that’s locked away with repressed memories.  If there is, we might be able to tap into it, with a form of hypnosis.”

A second didn’t even pass before Steve almost stepped in front of Natasha, “No, Bruce.  No.  You’re not going to traumatize Nat more.”

Bruce sighed, knowing that Steve wouldn’t go for it.  It wasn’t that Bruce liked the idea.  But these were desperate times, and they were racing against an unknown clock, “Just think about it, Natasha.  I promise, I wouldn’t focus on anything you’re not ready to talk about.  It would really be just trying to see if there’s anything hidden inside, that might be helpful.”

Banner walked off and she looked at the man holding onto her hand even harder now, “Nat, listen to me.  I know Bruce means well, but you don’t need that shit.  You don’t need to talk to anyone unless you’re ready and want to.  I told him that during every one of his damn sessions he’s made me have with him over the last month.”

“Steve, it’s not like the idea sounds fun to me.  But I do think it’d be worth a shot.  It’s not like I can be put through much more.”  Steve’s brow furrowed as his eyes filled with sadness, “Natasha…”

But she cut him off, “I didn’t mean that as a joke, Steve.  I just meant that even if there’s only a small chance, I owe it to everyone here, and everyone that’s been hurt by Poseidon to try.”

“What about you, Nat?  You’ve been hurt the most.” 

“Well then I owe it to myself to try too, Steve.  Let’s just get to work for right now, and we can talk about it later.”

And they did talk about it later as Natasha and Steve sat on the floor again that night, looking through a couple of old picture albums.  He could tell that her mind was made up, but he still didn’t like it, “I just…I know I can’t protect you from all the pain in the world, Natasha.  But I sure want to try.  I don’t think I’ve told you this, but that was what ate me up the most at your memorial.  That I was there, without being able to bury you, and feeling like I failed you when you needed me most.  I don’t ever want to fail you again.”

Natasha set the photo album down and grabbed his hands, “Steve, you’ve _never_ failed me.”

Steve brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear, “I know you say you have flashes, Nat.  That’s how I remember the time when I got the pictures.  I remember the actual photos at the FBI that day, and I wish I could forget.  But I don’t remember much else from that time honestly.  I don’t know if it’s my heart protecting my brain or the other way around.  But it’s like there’s this black hole of time.  I remember searching and praying every night that it wasn’t true.  And then all of a sudden we were at the memorial.”

“You wore a Navy suit.  Peter had suspenders on.  And Sarah looked lovely in her black dress.  Everyone who was there left a red rose on the gravesite, but there was no casket.  Just a headstone, right?”

Steve was absolutely at a loss for words from his shock.  His breath hitched as he looked at her, “Nat, how did you?”

Natasha drew her knees up as she wrapped her arms around and rested her cheek against them.  She looked over at Steve “I don’t remember how they took the photos of me.  They must have drugged me.  But I do remember the day of my funeral.  That’s a really odd thing to say.  But I remember because they had a camera hidden at the cemetery, and Ivan and Oksana made me watch.”

* * *

_In restless dreams I walked alone_

_Narrow streets of cobblestone_

_‘Neath the halo of a street lamp_

_I turned my collar to the cold and damp_

_When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light_

_That split the night_

_And touched the sound of silence_

***

**_18 Months Ago –_ **

_Three months._

_For three months, Natasha was held in that cemented cell.  While Natasha couldn’t remember specifics about the time that followed Dr. Erskine’s death, she remembered trying to stay strong._

_Flashes of stale tasting water and dried bread with maybe an apple or banana or bowl of oatmeal each day.  Flickers of using her stainless-steel cup to catch droplets of water out her tiny window for extra drink when it happened to rain while the window was open.  And a barrage of other blips related to her senses – the scratchy blanket, a rickety cot that reminded her of the orphanage as a child, a few musty, old books that’d been tossed to her, the stench of dampness and mildew in the air, and the ever-growing hunger in her as her body started to weaken._

_Natasha remembered attempting to fight that weakness growing inside her body for those first few months.  Endless sit-ups, push-ups, and every other exercise she could think of were done, trying to combat the inevitable._

_And every night, Natasha shut her eyes as the evenings seemed to blend into one endless night.  But she still thought of Steve and what he must be going through.  Natasha had no idea.  She had no way of contacting Clint or anyone else to find out what was going on in the outside world.  She was utterly alone in her restless dreams that filled the dark._

_Thoughts of what happened to her three months ago, were pushed down into the recesses of her mind.  She didn’t linger on Erskine or the baby at first.  She only focused on keeping her strength up, to take her shot when it came._

_That was the goal.  She focused on the feeling of her fingers around Oksana’s throat and let the anger fuel her.  She’d come within mere seconds of killing Oksana._

_And if it was the last thing she did, Natasha was going to get those seconds back to finish the fucking job._

_Natasha was alone.  Ivan, Oksana, Rumlow, Rollins.  They didn’t visit her hardly at all, during those early months.  There was no fighting.  Just the same thing over and over again each day and night, as she lost a pound here, and another there.  And yes, as she was only left with her thoughts and senses, the solitude wore on, causing her to go a little crazy._

_Flashes of having conversations with herself, conversations with her memories of Clint and Steve, conversations with crickets that she heard at night.  They all occurred, filling the silence.  Natasha even remembered talking with the evening sky each night.  For the moon and stars outside her barred window, no longer mocked her with their position of freedom.  Instead, Natasha found comfort in their covering glow.  She would stare up at the moon and remembered doing so at Quantico.  And she couldn’t help but wonder if Steve was somehow doing the same thing._

_Time passed, and Natasha didn’t even realize how much wore on.  Until one rainy afternoon it became perfectly clear what Steve **had** been going through.  Because three months in, she finally **was** visited.  And she instantly wished she hadn’t been.  Because it was a flash, just like with her baby and Dr. Erskine, that bore permanently into her memory.  _

_Natasha was lying on the concrete, stretching as she turned her head to the cold and damp floor.  It’d been dark for days as a big storm had passed through.  And the door slammed open with a loud crack as Rumlow held his flashlight down toward her eyes._

_She was blinded by the brightness as she squinted._

_But that wasn’t the only neon light that would blind her.  Rumlow forced her to sit in a chair as she tried to fight him.  Even in trying to keep up her strength though, Natasha had started to weaken, and she could feel it.  She’d lost a little more weight and muscle mass.  But more than that, her energy faded quickly because of the lack of nutrition in her body._

_“You listen here princess.  We have a movie for you to watch.  Believe me, it’ll be unforgettable.”_

_Rumlow’s voice lingered in her ear as she flinched away from him.  Ivan and Oksana brought in a monitor and turned it on, and the light from the screen was so bright that she shut her eyes._

_“Open your eyes Natasha, and you’ll finally see your precious soldier again.”  Oksana’s icy stare chilled her as she and Ivan left the room after they told Rumlow, “Make sure she watches everything.  We want her to see the damage she’s caused.”_

_The white light on the screen flickered, and changed to a colored image.  At first, Natasha thought maybe she was in a confusing dream because it looked like a live stream at a cemetery.  As Natasha looked around the screen, the image became focused.  She wasn’t dreaming.  It **was** a cemetery.  And there was a small group of people around a gravestone.  _

_Natasha saw Sarah first, and immediate dread filled her.  Saliva formed as her throat tightened, “No!  No, no, no.  Please, Steve.  Please no.”  Natasha immediately thought something happened to Steve as Rumlow cackled, “Believe me, if that fucker was getting buried, there’d be a lot more people that showed up to his funeral.”_

_Then she saw him, and her heart stopped._

_Steve was in a Navy suit as a toddler in suspenders stood by him, who she knew had to be Wanda and Bucky’s son.  She saw both of them too, and Fury.  Behind them she saw Maria, Thor and Sam.  And Bruce and a woman she’d realize later was Betty.  Her second thought was, ‘Oh my god, did something happen to Rhodey or Tony?’_

_No.  That couldn’t be either, because their families would be there.  And Steve looked…lost.  Everyone was gravitating around him as Sarah guided him to his seat.  Sarah and Bucky flanked him protectively, and suddenly, it was like a knife twisted in her heart.  Her brain split, realizing what she was looking at.  Rumlow scoffed at her realization as she shot up from the chair to get away, “I’m not watching that.  God, you are so fucking sick!”_

_Rumlow advanced and Natasha fought back.  She took the advantage first, kneeing him hard in the balls and plunging her thumb into his eye.  She stepped down onto his toes as her elbow slammed into his throat.  She’d gotten some shots in, but he was stronger than her and she was exhausted now as he groaned, “Listen here, you bitch.  I follow orders here, unlike you.  So, let me tell you.  You’re going to do as Ivan and Oksana said.  You’re going to watch every fucking second of Rogers’ torment at your funeral.”_

_The cell was tiny and there was nowhere for her to go as she backed into a corner.  Rumlow overpowered her this time and grabbed her.  He lifted her up by the waist, carried her five feet as she tried to kick away from him.  But he threw her down on the chair.  Before she could get up again, she’d been drugged.  Rumlow put something in her system causing her muscles to go limp.  It was a paralytic of some sorts, but she was still awake._

_He grabbed her head and turned it toward the screen, “You watch, Romanoff.  Watch the world you thought you could live in forever crumble before your eyes.  You watch as they all say goodbye to you and never think of you again.  You’re dead to them.  They all believe it because we made it so.”_

_She could hear him and her own frantic breathing.  She could see the screen and could feel the strain as she tried to look away again.  But she couldn’t move.  Rumlow tied her to the chair and pulled out a Velcro strap that had a metal strip on the underside of it.  Natasha was in a pair of ratty sweats and a T-shirt.  He forced her pant leg up to her thigh, as he wrapped the strap around the bare skin above her knee._

_Natasha was having an out of body experience.  The drug Rumlow had injected in her body wasn’t affecting her mentally.  It was only affecting her muscles as adrenaline tried to combat it, but all she could remember thinking was how sick she felt in her stomach from what she was looking at.  Natasha couldn’t move, but she was more alert than ever.  Her own funeral was happening before her eyes as she caught a glimpse of Sarah and Bucky holding Steve.  She saw Wanda holding her son and crying into his tiny shoulder.  She watched Sam and Fury and everyone else all wipe their eyes too._

_No.  Natasha couldn’t physically move, but she tried to blur the image before her because she couldn’t watch this.  She couldn’t watch the pain on Steve’s face.  Not after everything.  Not after the baby.  It would crush any remaining strength and fight she had left in her._

_Rumlow’s voice rumbled in the dark, “I would keep focus on the screen, Romanoff.  You see this?  I’m holding onto this little switch.  I flip it, and a high voltage shock goes through these wires and connects to the cuff on your thigh.  Rules are simple.  You keep watch on the precious love of your life, that you just had to go and fuck one last time in that cabin.  You watch all the pain you caused him.  Or I turn this on and more of your pretty smooth skin gets burned.”_

_Fear overwhelmed her.  Not even from the strap on her leg, but from what she was watching.  And then she heard it.  She heard Steve’s voice, and she couldn’t stop herself from watching anymore.  She stared at him as he tried to say something.  She saw him stand up to move by the gravestone.  Her gravestone.  The video had sound as his beautiful voice filled the air._

_“I don’t really know what to say right now.  I said that to Mom last night, and she just told me to speak from the heart.”_

_Natasha heard his voice breaking, “And I know there are things that Nat did, that would cause you all to still be angry.  Maybe even angry enough to make you think about not coming today.  But I just want to say thank you.  Thank you for coming, and for trying to focus on the good.  It’s what I’m trying to do.  But…I.  I don’t really think I’m doing a good job at it.”_

_She heard the unmistakable waiver in his voice as he looked down at the ground and wiped his eyes.  Steve rubbed the back of his neck and took a shaky breath as he tried to go on, “I guess I don’t really know what to do, either.  And I know you’ve all been there for me.  Nat would’ve wanted that.  I can’t help but think, that she would’ve hated us all crying over her though.  But I guess she doesn’t get a say today, does she?”_

_Steve was working through his words, but he was a wreck.  He was so lost and heart-broken, but he had told Bucky and Sarah that he needed to try and stand up to say something.  But he was unravelling almost as quickly as he’d started._

_He took another breath, but then Steve started talking directly to Natasha, and he found a little more purpose behind his emotions as he pulled the army chain from his pocket.  Natasha could tell he was holding onto it tight as his words came out._

_“Nat, I’m holding onto your necklace still.  It somehow makes me feel close to you.  I miss you, more and more each day.  God, I miss you.  Every morning and night all I can do is think of you.  I want you to know…that I forgive you.  And I’ll cherish every memory that I have of us, forever.”_

_Natasha heard the unmistakable sound of his voice breaking again as he held back a sob.  He lingered on the last word and her heart broke right along with him.  She knew what he was feeling and thinking as he focused on it.  She knew what it meant and represented to both of them, “Forever…”_

_As strong as Steve was, and as hard as he tried to stand tall and give a moving eulogy, it wasn’t in the cards.  He couldn’t go on.  Steve thought of their lake weekend when he’d given her his chain, and their beautiful life after.  He thought of their stolen weekends and how they’d spoken that very same word at the cabin._

_And that was it._

_Natasha watched as he turned around to touch the gravestone.  And then it was like there was a vice on both their hearts as she saw Steve fall on the ground to his knees.  He began shaking tremendously as his pleas and cries came out.  Bucky came up by him, but it didn’t help.  And all she could focus on was the tight hold he had on the gravestone as his army tag was draped over his hand._

_Tears were coming out of her eyes from everything inside her.  From everything she knew Steve was feeling.  And then the video was gone, right along with her image of Steve.  She was left with the blinding white light again, and Poseidon and Rumlow did what they always do._

_They twisted the knife anyway._

_Rumlow flipped the switch in his hand, and the voltage travelled through the wiring, down to the cuff, and onto her burning skin from where the metal strip lay.  The drug Rumlow had given her was short lasting as her movement and feeling all came back.  And all she remembered next was screaming.  Blood curdling screaming.  Screaming for Steve.  Screaming for everything that had happened to her and him._

_And then darkness and silence came once more._

* * *

Steve really felt like he was going to be sick, hearing Natasha’s re-telling from that day.  But instead of succumbing to the overwhelming nausea, he breathed heavily through his nostrils and narrowed his eyes, “I’m going to fucking kill that son of a bitch.  And I swear to god it’ll be the first time I truly enjoy taking a life.”

More darkness.  More light.  More silence in her memories. 

Steve and Natasha were separated by distance, but connected by their pain during their darkest times.  And they were finding their way through that heartache now, together.   

She leaned against him on the floor as Steve lifted the pant leg on her sweats that she was wearing.  They were actually his, so they were more than baggy on her, but she’d started wearing them every night, along with his FBI hoodie.  She told him that first night that she loved feeling surrounded by him. 

Steve’s hand ran along the narrow strip of red and angry flesh, depicting everything she’d just told him.  He looked like he could scream but he didn’t.  Instead, more tears of sorrow and guilt came out, as a little more light was shed on their darkest memories. 

Natasha carded her fingers through his hair as his lips brushed over her scar.  It wasn’t sexual, and they weren’t going any further than their kissing and caresses each night.  They weren’t ready for _anything_ like that right now.  But their touches were still healing in the most intimate of ways.

Natasha felt his lips rest against her skin, and a flutter formed in her stomach that expanded to her heart.  She took a deep breath as she leaned down to kiss his hair.  They rested like that for several minutes, easing each other’s pain.  And somehow, another step forward was made.  The trust continued to grow, night after night.  And the pain…the more they shared and exposed, the less power those memories had. 

Steve lifted his eyes as he kissed her temple, and he grabbed the next box.  They’d been through two full boxes of Steve’s shattered dreams and broken heart already. 

Natasha leaned forward and grabbed a few more books and loose pages and held them in her lap.  This time she shifted as Steve moved to sit right behind her.  Somehow, with everything they’d shared over the last week, they couldn’t get close enough to each other.  Her back was against his chest as he drew his legs up, and held his arms around her waist.  He surrounded her.

They were no longer alone in their thoughts and dreams, grieving separately.  They were here together, holding each other as they continued swimming across their ocean of grief. 

The images in the books she held were a lot lighter than the dark ones she’d stared at over the previous nights.  These were all from their life together.  From their five years of bliss.  She smiled as she saw drawings of her running and stretching.  Of her covered in mud in that locker room from the driving test at TEVOC, “That’s a good memory, soldier.”  Natasha nudged his knee as he nuzzled his nose into her neck, “Yeah, there’s a lot of good memories, Nat.”

And she pushed down the threat of more tears, as she went on. 

Sketches of them dancing together, cooking, and at all the holidays.  Drawings of her at sunset on their vacation to the Grand Canyon, in her little black dress on their trip to Vegas, and at night time by the fire on their camping weekends.  There were quick traces on some of the pages, that she could tell he’d done in a hurry.  And there were ones with such intricate detail, that she swore she could’ve been looking at a black and white photo. 

Natasha blushed as she saw images of her in bed and of them together on the couch.  Of her in the shower and in a swimsuit.  Steve whispered as she looked at each one of those intimate drawings, “Those don’t hold a candle to the real thing, Natasha.”  And her warmth grew a little more. 

And then there were other sketches from their early days.  His first memory of her on the running path.  Their late-night coffee make-out.  And then kissing outside at Quantico, and again outside in the alley.  Their first weekend together at the lake.  Of her looking out on the deck at night, and swimming in the water.  Of her eating watermelon at the farmer’s market, and their cruise after they’d first made love.

Natasha didn’t know what to say.  Her journal was condensed into inches of paper.  Yes, filled with visceral words.  But this…this was something she’d never imagined.  Natasha realized how much of Steve’s time was spent in the evenings and the middle of the night now, drawing and dreaming of her.  She’d believed it when he said it.  But seeing made the believing all the more real. 

Natasha ran her hands over the last image in the book she held.  It was one of them dancing to ‘Forever,’ on their weekend away when he’d given her his chain.  In some ways, the drawing was even more beautiful than the picture.  They didn’t go to bed that night for a couple more hours.  She rested against Steve’s chest as he held her close.  Letting the quiet surround them, they fell asleep right there, with the image laying between their hands and Natasha’s heart. 

* * *

Before the team knew it, two weeks had passed at the compound. 

Everyone found their daily routine somehow.  Laundry times and workouts.  Cooking meals and long working hours.  Laughter and anger.  Adjustment periods and growing pains.  Some minor irritations naturally arose, but they all worked through it together. 

And Peter, tagged along with Natasha every step of the way he could.  By the time the first week officially passed, he pretty much expected nightly stories to be read to him by his Uncle Steve and Nat.  And they did, every night. 

Last night Peter asked, “Can you read one more story to me?”  Steve smiled and winked at him, “Aw buddy nice try, but I know your trick.  I give you one more, and you’ll just ask for another.” 

Peter turned out his lip and pouted, but Natasha lifted his chin, “Peter?  One special story from us, for one special boy each night, remember?”  He smiled at her words and nodded as Steve wrapped his arm around her waist.  They were walking out and Peter’s voice asked softly, “Nat?”

Natasha grinned at Steve, “What is it, Peter?”  Peter smiled, “Do you love Uncle Stinky Face like the princess loves the frog?”  Well, how could anyone’s heartstrings not be pulled right along with their laughter? 

Natasha bit back her laugh though as she took in Steve’s baffled expression.  Peter had a wondrous look on his face, like he was truly curious about the answer, even though he’d called Steve his own nickname.  Steve chuckled and silently mouthed to Natasha, ‘ _That’s all Buck in him,’_ as she answered, “Yeah Peter, I do.  I love your Uncle Stinky Face.”Of course, Peter did get a second story from his mother and father shortly after each night.  Just as he wished.

Steve and Natasha managed a round of games of chutes and ladders with Peter downstairs one night, to give Wanda and Bucky and Sarah a little break. 

They were more than happy and having a good time together.  And Peter had an attack of giggles as Steve kept landing on the longest ladder and lost each time.  Steve played it up, clutching his chest and acting disappointed each time, but ended up laughing at himself each time too.  Which made Natasha giggle right along with Peter.

Steve was taken aback at the glow that Natasha had whenever Peter was by her.  Which again, was _a lot_ of the time.  She was _always_ beautiful.  But there was something special about the way her face lit up when she was hugging Peter or ruffling his hair, or showing him how to do her stretches that Laura kept reminding her to work on to keep her muscles moving and growing.  The other day, Steve thought they both looked like two little spiders as they did this weird stretch together.  And Natasha just winked at Steve when she caught him staring. 

And in two weeks’ time, the team kept exchanging messages with Ross and Phillips and each Director. The media was still going crazy over the _Attack on America and the FBI_ , as it had more or less officially been labeled. 

Clint and Natasha and Steve stayed in contact with Jones and the mercenaries.  They wanted no part of ‘playing house,’ with a bunch of law enforcement people.  So, they kept their distance and did their own thing until they might be needed down the line.  “You call us, Barton, when there’s actual Russians to fucking kill again,” Castle had yelled the last time they’d spoken to him. 

In addition to British Intelligence having servers being breached overseas, Melinda May had communicated with Fury from Asia, and said she was working on chasing down a faction of the Yakuza crime syndicate, but hadn’t found anything on Poseidon yet. 

Steve and Natasha went back and forth on Bruce’s idea for hypnosis because she still couldn’t remember what was starting to drive her _more_ than a little crazy.  After the two-week mark arrived, she finally put her foot down, “Steve, I know you’re trying to protect me, but it’s time.  Tomorrow I’m going to let Bruce try.  I’m pretty much at full strength now.  I’m feeling healthier than _ever_ , and each night you and I keep working through… _everything_.  Please, just trust me that I know myself well enough.  I _know_ I can handle this.  It’s been two weeks, which means they’re closing in on their planning.  I _have_ to do this.”

Steve did trust her, and he knew he had to support her, “Alright, Nat.  Tomorrow.  But promise me you’ll let me be in the room with you.”  She nodded back to him, “There’s no place I’d want you to be more than right by my side.”  And they went up to their room that night to go through the fourth and final box that Steve had brought with him.

Natasha had told Steve pretty much every flash and blip she could recall.  But after she was forced to watch her own funeral, everything sort of faded to black.  She stopped caring about trying to stay strong.  And somewhere along the line, without her even realizing it, she’d started holding and rubbing her stomach at night. 

There was no more planning for a chance to possibly escape.  And overwhelming hopelessness set in, as her depression grew.  She thought of Clint and Steve’s pain, and she couldn’t stop from thinking about everything she’d tried to repress.  The guilt followed, rising with each thought of Erskine and every other person that’d been hurt by Poseidon and her over the years. 

It didn’t take long for the repressed memories to consume and for the growing guilt to swallow her whole.  Because Natasha couldn’t stop thinking of her miscarriage, once she started. 

They let her shower once every couple of days, but one never distinguished itself from another.  Rations of food were the same, as well as her water supply.  It was all enough to keep her alive, but not truly living.  She didn’t know what they were keeping her alive for, and honestly didn’t care anymore to even try to find out.  Days ran into nights that ran back into days as she lost track of how long it’d been.  Her hair grew longer as her body grew dangerously thin. 

There were beatings and bruises, but she couldn’t remember specifics in the large gap of time.  There were images of boots kicking her and fists punching her.  The scent of blood and grime and dirt and sweat always lingered.   Just like the darkness and silence.  The cold and damp.  The hunger and pain. 

And Steve.  _Overpoweringly_ , flashes and thoughts of Steve were always there in her mind. 

Natasha remembered pictures of Steve at some point, which was probably a year into her imprisonment, right at the darkest part of his nosedive.  He looked thinner, his beard was scraggly, and his eyes just looked empty.  And that was how she felt.  Empty.  At some point the rubbing on her stomach turned into scratching, and she found the sensation soothing at first.  But then it wasn’t enough as the scratching spread to her legs and arms and neck.  All in the hopes, to just feel _something._

Something besides the numbing pain and endless silence and darkness.

“I know that sounds strange, Steve.  That almost a year a year and a half passed without me even having a solid memory to draw back on, but it’s the truth.  It was dark and silent as more and more time passed.  And I just wanted to sleep.  I would stare at the moon at night, knowing you thought I died.  And honestly?  I wished I had during that time.  But I didn’t have the strength to even try.”

For two weeks, Steve heard Natasha share.  And now she was admitting maybe her hardest truth.  That she’d given up to the point where she wanted to be dead, and he couldn’t blame her, “Nat, I don’t even know how to tell you how strong you are.  I felt like giving up.  _I did._   I know no one wants to hear that, but a few months after I thought you died, I was at a breaking point.  I don’t know what would’ve happened because I couldn’t see or think straight.  And I know the only reason I made it through, was because of Bucky and Mom and Wanda.”

Natasha was resting in between his legs again that night.  It’d become their favorite way to sit on the floor and share.  She held his hands in her lap, “Steve, I think that’s true…that your family helped you through, but you had to decide on your own to fight and live.  And I’m so relieved you did.”

Steve tightened his hold a little more around her, “Tell you what, Natasha.  I can try and accept that if you can try too.  If there is one thing that is true about both of us, it’s that if there is a will, there’s a way.  So don’t tell me that you’re only alive, because you didn’t have the strength to try something worse…Maybe that’s partially true.  But part of me believes that you were going to live as long as you could, even if there was only a small chance of finding me and Clint again.”

She turned her head and gave him a sad smile and nodded.  What they were talking about wasn’t light or fun.  It was deep in the abyss of where they’d been emotionally, “Steve, the last thing I remember is right before you found me.  It was chaotic and there was a constant rush of people coming in and out of my room.  I was out of it, so it’s foggy, but it’s there.  I think they were getting ready to take me to the cabin. 

* * *

_And in the naked light I saw_

_Ten thousand people, maybe more_

_People talking without speaking_

_People hearing without listening_

_People writing songs that voices never share_

_No one dared_

_Disturb the sound of silence_

_‘Fools’ said I, You do not know_

_Silence like a cancer grows_

_Hear my words that I might teach you_

_Take my arms that I might reach you_

_But my words like silent raindrops fell_

_And echoed the wells of silence_

***

_“Rollins, grab Romanoff.  Ivan and Oksana want us to give her to the Russians in 20 minutes.  They’re taking her to the cabin after that.”  Rumlow’s voice echoed in Natasha’s cell as she forced her eyes open.  She had been held for 21 months now, and her body showed it.  She looked akin to someone with severe anorexia, but every now and then she still had a little fight in her._

_Rollins went to grab her but she moved to kick him.  She was so much slower now, so he caught her leg in time, but she hurt him as her nails made contact with his cheek.  They were brittle and had been scratching her own skin.  And her instincts kicked in as she dug into his flesh, feeling it scrape beneath her nails._

_“Fuck!”  Rollins grabbed her arm harder than he intended, and she jerked away from him.  He heard the sickening pop as her shoulder dislocated itself.  Her guttural scream followed._

_“That bitch scratched me!”  Rollins yelled as Rumlow yelled back, “Jesus Christ, Rollins.  We don’t have time for this shit.”  Rumlow went over to the rusted cot and held Natasha’s wrist tight, “You try anything like that with me, and your precious soldier won’t be able to recognize you if his life depended on it.”_

_Natasha, somehow became aware in that moment.  She didn’t know what day or year it was, but Rumlow was talking about Steve, and there was a menacing tone in his voice as Rollins chimed in, “If his life depended on it…It does depend on it, Rumlow.”_

_Rollins scoffed as Rumlow yelled back at him, “Shut the fuck up and grab her feet.”_

_Rumlow picked Natasha up by her arms and she cried out in pain from her shoulder as she murmured under her breath, “Steve.  No.  Steve don’t.”  She didn’t know what was happening, but it had to be something awful that was planned to harm Steve.  That’s what her instincts were shouting in her brain.  And any ounce of strength hiding in her, surfaced in that moment as she twisted and turned with their hold on her._

_“How the hell does she even have any strength to move right now?” Rollins asked._

_Natasha tried with everything she had to fight.  One of her feet slipped free from Rollins.  A solid kick landed square on his jaw, which caused him to drop her other leg.  She pulled against Rumlow as hard as she could, but she couldn’t get away from him._

_Instead, Rumlow pulled her injured shoulder back as her body thrashed in agony, “You never stop fighting do you, Romanoff?  Too bad, I used to think about fucking you a long time ago.  Before you were a traitorous bitch.  And now look at you.  Rogers will get one look at your broken body and probably turn around and run.  Your damaged goods, Romanoff.  You remember that on your last day of being alive.”_

_Natasha could give two fucks about Rumlow’s attempt at getting under her skin.  It was his words about Steve being around on her last day alive that stuck with her.  They were somehow going to be around Steve…and his life was going to be in danger.  She cried out in Rumlow’s grasp as she turned around enough to spit in his face._

_Out of anger, Rumlow shoved her to the ground._

_That was the last thing she remembered as he finally injected her with a sedative.  Out of rage, he’d kicked and hit her repeatedly, which resulted in her lung collapsing.  That was how the bruises formed and how Steve found her._

_The next thing she remembered was waking up in the hospital bed a week after Steve and Clint saved her._

* * *

Natasha could feel how tense Steve was as she sat against his chest.  He was livid to an extent that she didn’t know whether she could calm him down right now.  It wasn’t because he wanted to spout off about wanting to kill Rumlow again.  _He did_.  It was pretty much at the top of his priority list right now, right behind helping Natasha, and stopping Poseidon. 

But this was deeper. 

This was Steve reaching his breaking point.  He’d listened for two weeks to Natasha’s flickers of memories.  Some of them at the beginning were painfully descriptive as she recalled her miscarriage, Erskine’s death, and her having to watch her own funeral.  And some were jostled thoughts of feeling hungry, alone, and hopeless at night. 

And now, to hear that she’d been beaten before he’d found her? 

Steve swallowed as his throat tightened.  He felt like throwing up from what was eating him up inside. 

Guilt.

She could feel the slight tremors in his hands as he started to speak, “Natasha, this is all my fault.  God, I can’t…I’m so sorry I believed you died.  I’m so sorry for stopping my search for you.  I let you slip through my fingers each time you ran.  I should’ve tried harder…I wasn’t there when you needed me most.  I’m sorry.  _I’m so sorry_.”

There was a desperate vulnerability in Steve’s voice as he kept repeating his last words to her.

Natasha turned around to sit on her knees in between his legs.  She tilted his chin up to her, “Steven Grant Rogers, you dropped everything at just the mention of me being alive from Loki.  _Everything_.  You didn’t even hesitate to run off on your own to come and save me.  I told you this last week, but I mean it even more now.  You saved me, Steve.  You saved me from the horrors of my reality for five beautiful years.  And you kept trying to save me even after I ran.  You never stopped, until you thought I had died, and even then…You ran immediately at your first chance of hope.  You have _always_ been there when I needed you most, Steve.” 

Steve was holding onto her sweatshirt like he was clinging onto life.  “I hate that you had to go through any of it, Nat.  I hate it so fucking much.  And I hate that you still have those memories of what they did to you.”  Natasha ran her hands through his beard again, “Steve, I hate it too, and I hate what they did to you and us.  But this?  _This is_ _not your fault_.”

Steve looked up with his eyes filling with tears to hear her words, “I know you need to hear this.  I forgive you Steve.”

His lips started to move to say something, but Natasha leaned down to kiss him, which calmed him off the edge he was on.  She found his eyes again, “I forgive you, Steve…and you need to forgive yourself.”  He turned his head into her hand and kissed her palm.  Honestly, he didn’t know if he’d get there, or would ever truly stop feeling guilty. 

But Steve did know one thing, he loved Natasha now more than ever.  And the forgiveness that travelled from her lips to his ears, provided the soothing balm that his frantic state needed.   

And Steve knew what they needed to do too as he kissed her forehead, “Let’s get through this last box of stuff, okay Nat?”  The fourth and final box.  It wasn’t as full as the others, so Natasha grabbed the only two books inside and did what she had the last two weeks.  She started thumbing through all of Steve’s beautiful and haunting images of their past. 

The first book was filled with…their stolen weekends.  And everything came flooding back.  It was seven years filled with pain for both of them as she saw drawings of Moscow and the Palace.  The Gala and her dress that night with her mask on.  His sketch of her in the moonlight as she walked them toward the bathroom.  Them in the truck on their way to the safe house.  And her tears filled in the rest as the ache in Steve’s heart was evident on the pages. 

The pages turned as images from the cabin appeared. 

That weekend had always held such a special place in their memory, even with her saying goodbye.  But now, after knowing they’d conceived a child they would never know?  Well, now the weekend was held with almost a state of reverence in their hearts.

Natasha ran her fingers over images of them on the table together, her sitting on the bed in the loft, and of Steve finding her in the rain.  Drawings of fire, their bodies, and Steve’s lips on her scars.  Sketches of the love they made through the day and into the night.  It was all equally beautiful as it was sensual as she closed the cover and opened the last book. 

She’d seen everything from their past.  Every elation and twinge as Steve found a way to fill page after page with his feelings.  He poured his heart into each sketch and drawing over seven years’ time, but the final book was different.  The final journal of Steve’s drawings didn’t include images from their past. 

It held dreams and hopes, in the form of sketches of their future.  She flipped through page after page of unfulfilled wishes.  Them on their wedding day.  Her in a veil and he in a tux.  Their joined hands with rings.  Vacations they’d talked about.   And a house they’d bought.   And then she saw an image that stopped time. 

An image that finally caused her to stop being the strong one tonight.

Her hand froze as she looked down at the black and white drawing, clear as day, as she finally reached her breaking point. 

It was Steve and Natasha, standing together with Steve surrounding her with his arms.  Her back to his chest with their wedding bands on.  And their hands, rested side-by-side on her swollen stomach.  They looked so in love in the image.  And not just with each other, but what they held in their hands, like they were telling the child within, an unspoken promise.  A promise to protect it from everything that might be harmful in the outside world. 

Natasha broke down.  There were moments over the last two weeks, but this drawing, after everything they’d talked about, tapped into something deep and visceral inside and unleashed the rawness from within. 

Her words escaped through her hoarse cries and uneven breathing, “It’s all my fault.  I was so stupid.  And I lost our baby, Steve.  Everything is because of me.  I’m _so sorry.”_

She broke out into a sob as she repeated her words over and over again, through grated sounds, “ _I’m so sorry.”_  

Steve pulled her back, holding her against his chest.  He surrounded her with everything he could as his arms tightened and as he kissed her hair.  No words were said for a while, as his tears fell where he held her.  And as she wept, shaking in his arm.  Natasha kept repeating the sorrowful words, clutching to his shirt like he was her life support. 

Minutes passed before her crying started to fade.  Steve rocked her back and forth the little that he could, “Natasha, you listen to me.  I don’t know if I can ever stop feeling guilty, but I know I’m going to try.  And I need you to try too.  Because we’re in this together.”

He kissed her temple before going on, “Natasha, please.  Please listen to me.  _You did not lose our child_.  Our baby was lost because of Ivan and Oksana and because of Poseidon.  It was lost because they beat and tortured you with Rumlow and Rollins, holding you captive.  There’s _no other_ reason.  You are the strongest person I know, Nat.  So, please be strong enough to see that.  Be strong enough to know, that it is not your fault.”

Her body was still trembling, “Steve, the saddest parts were when I couldn’t even cry anymore.  There were moments, where it was like my body ran out of sorrow because the tears wouldn’t come.  I only remember those flashes that I told you about.  Because I was so lost, and most of the time it was like I couldn’t see or hear straight anymore.  Sometimes, it felt like I was just watching myself slowly die.”

Steve ran his hands up and down her back, “I felt like that too.  Like it wasn’t possible to feel more pain.  All I wanted when you were gone, was for you to somehow hear me.  For me to somehow reach you.  And I would have given anything to be able to find you again.  But then you were alive.  And somehow, my silent prayers were answered.   You were given back to me, Nat.  And that means _something_.”

Natasha looked up at Steve with red and puffy eyes as he held her cheek, “I think in some ways, maybe we were reaching each other in our dreams.  You talked to me when you looked at the moon and stars.  And I felt you through every sketch and drawing.”

His thumb brushed along her skin as she leaned into his palm.  And Steve felt the warmth in his heart expand in that moment, “Natasha, if it’s possible, I think I’ve fallen in love with you all over again over the last six weeks.”

Her lips started to move as more tears threatened to fall, “I have, Nat.  I look at you, and I remember when we first started at Quantico.  I remember finding you on that hill, looking out into the sunset with your red hair reflecting in the light, and my breath was taken away back then.  I remember thinking that you looked like you were glowing in the light.”

Natasha took a breath as she turned all the way around now to wrap her legs around his waist.  Their foreheads were almost touching. 

Steve looked at her like he could see straight into her heart, “You weren’t just glowing, Natasha.  It was like you were a Phoenix stretching her wings back then.  And now?  You’re this powerful and magical survivor that’s even stronger after rising from the ashes.  God, I know it might sound strange, but it’s true.  You’ve always been _beautiful_ and _strong_.  Ever since first meeting you.  But after _everything_ , you’re more stunning now, in body and spirit, than I can ever remember.”

She shut her eyes but opened them back up as he brushed her tears away on her cheek, “You wear your fight and survival like armor.  You are the _strongest_ person I know, Nat.  And I am more in love with you today, than I ever was seven years ago.  So, please believe me when I say that I forgive you.  I forgive you for running and the goodbye.  I forgive your for taking the files at Quantico seven years ago.  And I forgive you for everything you feel guilty for with our child.  Please promise me, you’ll try to forgive yourself too.  _Please_.”

Natasha let her forehead fall against Steve’s as she gave a simple nod as his words blanketed her in love. 

There were times over the years in their darkest times…Especially when anger got the best of them, that forgiveness felt like a fallacy.  There were times when they told themselves they didn’t need nor want it. 

They were wrong.

Visual cues, like Steve’s drawings helped Natasha realize what Steve was feeling when she was gone.  Reading Natasha’s journals helped Steve understand what she was thinking while they were separated.  And right now, both of their words were incredibly powerful.

And as they shared and listened and soothed night after night, a point was reached they didn’t think was possible six weeks ago.  Or even two weeks ago, when the FBI was under attack. 

Listening and talking to one another shed light on the darkest parts of their memories.  And it only strengthened their bond.  The reality was that their love and trust grew since Steve found her.  It grew through their tears and pain from their memories.  And it grew from the loss of seven years of their life, and yes, from the loss of their child. 

What doesn’t kill us, makes us stronger, as the saying goes. 

They both had a hell of a lot in life that had tried to kill them, and here they were in each other’s arms, stronger because of it.  Acceptance didn’t have to wait anymore, because they’d journeyed through their denial and avoidance, back to each other.  And as they shared, trust formed again.  And as trust formed, their love grew. 

 _Forgiveness_ followed with acceptance of their memories and reality, and everything in between.

There was a fire forging between them as well.  It was a fire of love and yearning.  It was a fire that healed and warmed.  It was a fire that burned with a growing desire, that felt like nothing that’d come before. 

When someone makes it through hell, they’re going to appreciate the view and air on the other side even more.  And that’s what this moment felt like for both of them.  It wasn’t an end.  It was a promise to keep moving forward on the road ahead.  Two steps forward with _no steps back_. 

_Finally._

Steve reached into his pocket and held Natasha’s cheek with his other hand, “You left this on the dresser seven years ago, Nat.  And I’ve been holding it for you ever since.  I think it’s time I put it back where it belongs.”

Tears of pain didn’t follow.  Tears of joy did.  True and pure, unbridled tears of promise as Natasha looked down and saw Steve’s Army chain. 

Whether he found it in a box, or he’d had it with him the entire time, she didn’t care.  It rested securely over her heart for five years, and she left it behind when she ran.  And the feeling of protection she felt back then, came rushing back as he slipped it over her head. 

She held it in her palm before tucking it inside his FBI sweatshirt, letting it rest right against her heart, with all of the love and reverence it conveyed.  It was as permanent as the written word.  It was a representation of their love and promise to each other.  And that promise was stronger today than ever before. 

Natasha stared into his eyes, with a gaze full of everything inside her heart, “I love you, Steve.  I’ve always loved you.  And I’ll love you forever.”

They stood up as he leaned down to kiss her again.  The softness was felt at first as he cupped her cheek and she held his neck.  But as their lips met, there was more urgency this time.  Steve picked her up and carried her to bed as the warmth spread from their kiss through their entire bodies. 

They weren’t ready for anything else right now, but the path they’d been on for two weeks, felt like the journey of a lifetime.  It wasn’t clean or neat or linear, but it was them. 

And together, they’d found a way in their ocean of grief, to finally swim. 

In some ways, this journey started the moment Natasha ran.  As they found stolen passages of time, never being able to let go.  As they found crossroads and decision points, that led them back to each other time and time again.  They fell asleep holding each other as close as space would allow, with her tucked under his chin and their legs intertwined.  And Steve and Natasha rested still and soundly in the dark, as the sound of silence filled the air. 

This time the silence wasn’t menacing or haunting.  It was peaceful, as they finally found themselves together again, on the long road to forgiveness. 

* * *

_And the people bowed and prayed_

_To the neon god they made_

_And the sign flashed out its warning_

_In the words that it was forming_

_And the sign said, The words of the prophets_

_Are written on the subway walls_

_And tenement halls_

_And whispered in the sounds of silence_

_***_

_One may see where a ripple begins, but not where it ends._

_But whether it is ripples in time, space, or distance, there is a purpose.  For there is a time and purpose to everything.  And if one finds themselves in darkness or light, or in silence or sound, let them look back in hopes to remember.  To remember that yes, there is a time and purpose, for everything._

_For mistake and betrayal.  For loss and love.  For anger and hate.  For acceptance and forgiveness.  A time and purpose, for everything._

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, of course I give credit to The Byrds and Simon & Garfunkel for their beautiful lyrics (at least a portion of them), as part of my inspiration for a lot of this chapter. I will say though, the version of Sound of Silence that was haunting me for the last few weeks (and actually before at times while writing this story) was the band, Disturbed’s version. It is equally melancholy as it is beautiful. If you’ve heard it, you know what I’m talking about. If you haven’t, do yourself a favor and listen to 4 minutes of hauntingly beautiful lyrics on youtube.
> 
> I was speaking with a couple people on how I sometimes listen to songs like that…very angst / alt rock / grunge / haunting music while writing some of the hard scenes I’ve had to on this journey. It helps my mood – it helps me get in touch with some of those feelings that I try to convey. And honestly, if I think of a song while writing something, I’m like a dog with a bone and can’t get it out of my head! LOL. I think when this story is all said and done with, I will post my list of songs that I’ve thought of, referenced in the story, or have listened to along this journey. 
> 
> At this point, I think we have about 5 or so chapters (updates) left. It is really hard to even write that, to think of where we came from with Steve looking out at that green light from his apartment window, and Natasha and him crashing into each other while running the night before they began at Quantico. It kind of seems like, a really really long time ago, doesn’t it?
> 
> I think I’m equally excited and sad for the next five or so. Your support and encouragement mean the world to me as we continue through the journey. I can’t thank you all enough. 
> 
> Come follow me on Tumblr @eightieskat to chat about this story, anything Marvel, or anything in general!
> 
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> Have a great weekend! Cheers!! ~~ Kat


	24. Wake Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be travelling this weekend and part of next week, so I wanted to be sure to get this posted prior to the week's close. 
> 
> Enjoy the chapter and image board below! See note at the end.

Memories & Reality

I do not own any of this or any part of Marvel or the MCU 

Chapter 24 – Wake Up

* * *

 **Present Day –** Task-Force Compound

“Who’s putting coffee grounds in the disposal?”  

Tony’s voice was a little too dramatic for it being _so early_ in the morning.  

Two weeks at the compound meant the task-force was bonding while working together.  But it also meant little annoyances arose as Tony’s sarcasm ran through the kitchen.  Pepper kissed him on the cheek, “Don’t pretend like you don’t love the fact you got to spend your money on every part of this place, Tony.  Even the coffee grounds in the disposal.”  

She left him in the wide and open kitchen to go work upstairs with Betty.  Tony chuckled, knowing Pepper was right as he looked over at Bucky and Sam.  They were in the midst of their normal wake-up routine, and were both smirking at him as they ate their cornflakes at the counter.  

Wilson turned to Barnes, “Hey Bucky, how’s that coffee taste?  You made it fresh this morning, but I didn’t _actually_ see you throw the remnants from yesterday in the garbage.”  Sam finished off the milk in his bowl, but almost choked because Bucky smacked his back, “Ouch!” 

Bucky shook his head, “What the hell, Sam.  We’re supposed to have each other’s backs.  We lived together for years.  Nobody likes a narc.”

Sam answered right back, “That’s true, we _did_ live together.  And you did the same crap back then too.  Just because there’s more people to pick up after your sloppy ass now besides your wife, doesn’t mean you need to completely revert to being a caveman.  Have some decency, man.”

Bucky looked like he was about to go down this rabbit hole of nothingness, into mindless arguing to keep their minds off of _everything_ else.  But Tony cut him off, sounding annoyed, “ _Oh my god_ , I never would’ve asked if I would’ve known your lover’s quarrel would spark from it.  Seriously though Bucky, the trash is right under the sink.  Just toss the filter in the garbage next time.  You’re not in a biker gang.”

It was all in good fun.  The joking and razzing were a way to pass the time in between endless searches and long hours.  

Bucky talked while slurping his own milk, “Sorry.  It’s early, and I'm cranky.  But now that you reminded me of our roommate days, Sam...You guys notice how much it seems like we’re all back at Quantico, since staying here?”  Tony was drinking his own coffee as he raised his eyebrow, but Bucky continued, “No seriously.  I mean look at my wife and Loki.  They’re on the couch in the living room, working on some techy crap that I still don’t follow 99 percent of.  And they look _just_ like they did 12 years ago.” 

“That’s true, but at Quantico there wasn’t a four-year old boy sitting in between them.  I mean, you acted four sometimes, Barnes...but still.”

Bucky scoffed, “I _never_ sat in between them, Tony.  And you won’t catch me there now.  Peter can have at it.  They can talk computers all they want.”

Sam let out a laugh, “Yeah, and look at Rhodey, Maria, and Thor.  Just like at Quantico, Fury has us all doing weird crap for him again, like the Morse Code telegraphing.  They’re in the conference room now working on it but are _still_ struggling to get the hang of the machine after two weeks.”

Bucky’s face scrunched up, “You mean to tell me that I know a method of communication better than three people on this task-force, who work for the CIA, NSA, and Homeland?”  Tony grinned, “I will take the word ‘better’ with a grain of salt.  You told Colonel Phillips by accident the other day, on that machine, that Loki was Peter’s father.”

The three men laughed, trying to go over what they would hopefully figure out today, “Where is everyone else?”  Tony asked.  Bucky tilted his head towards the door, “Bruce is upstairs.  Clint and Laura are in the garage area.  Clint was showing her his weapons or something last night.  I guess they’re continuing it this morning.”

“ _Showing her his weapons_ …Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” Tony’s joke made them all burst out now as Sam added, “I think Fury is out walking with Sarah.  They’ve been taking a stroll every morning before most of us wake up.  Can’t keep secrets in a compound with spies, agents, and former military though.”

“ _T_ _aking a stroll_ …Is that what kids are calling it these days?”  Sam laughed again at Tony’s additional joke, but stopped when he thought about what the words actually meant.  

Bucky had a scowl on his face now, “Yeah, maybe not so funny when we’re talking about my _mother,_ Tony.  Where’s my brother and Romanoff?”

Tony refilled all their cups of coffee, “Before I answer that…back to what we just glossed over like it was no big deal…What’s going on with the two baby boomers in this compound?  Since when were early morning walks part of daily routines between Sarah and Fury?”

Sam was grinning ear to ear as Bucky’s cheeks turned red, “I don’t know, Stark.  Just drop it.  Mom said she likes the fresh air, and Fury felt better if he was accompanying her outside.”

Sam about spit out his coffee as Tony let out a low whistle, "Fury's got game.  Didn't see that one coming."

Bucky glared at Tony with a harsh enough look that he changed the subject...fast, “Right.  Right.  Enough empty nester talk.  We don’t need to worry about the AARP crowd’s personal time...Anyway, what were you asking?  Right, your brother.  He’s working out upstairs with Romanoff, I think.  Actually, now that you mention it Barnes, it is _just like Quantico_.  They’re still early birds, kicking all of our asses in the workout department.”

Sam added, “And getting cozy again, having their own body language that only the two of them understand…with all those _glances_ that make all of us uncomfortable.”

A soft smile settled in, over the three men’s faces, because they _weren’t_ uncomfortable.  They’d all seen the incredible progression between Steve and Natasha over the last two weeks.  Bucky especially, couldn’t have been more relieved or happy about it.  They didn’t know any specifics nor did they need to.  

Really, they didn’t.  

Natasha and Steve had been through every stage of hell separately.  The first month after Steve had saved her, their family and friends only encouraged them to talk.  Bucky had said his peace with both of them.  And it all came from a place of love and being really concerned about two individuals.  

So, six weeks after Loki’s arrest, to now see the smiles, and the hand holding, and the quick kisses to the forehead, and yes, all the loving and sometimes smoldering glances?  It was the biggest relief to those same family and friends that had been _really_ concerned.  Especially Clint, Wanda, Bucky, and Sarah.  Because each of those small little signs, just mean that there was healing and love and trust, growing underneath.  

That’s all they needed or wanted to know.    

Sam said quietly as he lifted his cup to his mouth, “Yeah, it does feel like Quantico in some ways.  And that’s just fine by me.”

Tony broke them from their train of thought, “Okay, what are we, _The_ _Golden_ _Girls_?  We got work to do.  Poseidon?  Fate of the country?  Any of that ring a bell?  Let’s finish these coffees and shower and get back to it.”  

* * *

“Ouch.”

“Nat, what is it?” 

Steve and Natasha had just finished working out and were cooling down with their stretches.  They’d woken up earlier, feeling rested even though they were following such an emotionally taxing evening, working through the rest of Natasha’s memories, and the last of Steve’s drawings.  

The temptation to hide in the safety of each other’s arms was definitely present earlier, but Natasha was actually the one to force themselves out of bed. 

“Come on Steve," Natasha had said to him a few hours ago, "We got a long day ahead of us, and I don’t think I moved a muscle in this bed the entire night.”

Steve tightened his hold around her narrow waist and wouldn’t budge, “Five more minutes,” he grumbled.  Some things _were_ just like Quantico, indeed.  Natasha smiled into his chest, humming as her lips found the bare skin on his neck, “Do you have any idea what we could do with those five minutes?”

It was early enough, and they were secluded from the heaviness of the night before and the outside world in that moment, that they fell into the playfulness, “I think I’ve always been pretty creative, Natasha.  I’m sure I can think of something.”

Natasha hovered over his pulse point, sucking softly beneath his beard.  Her hands pressed into his back, “I always liked it when you made good use of our time, Steve.”  The flirtation and desire were there, growing right along with the trust and love between them as they’d reconnected over the last several weeks.  

But just like at Quantico, Steve didn’t want them to rush.  

They _had_ rushed on their stolen weekends over the last seven years, and this...was different.  Plus, there was also the part of Steve that was being over-protective to an insane extent almost, because he was so concerned with Natasha becoming stronger and healthier on all fronts.  Natasha lifted her knee that was resting between his thighs.  Testing the waters, she slid upwards, and the bubble burst.  

Steve tightened his legs around her, and drew her hands in between their chests as he pulled away from her kisses on his neck.  She smiled as his arms stilled her, “Was I getting too creative, Steve?”

Steve blew out a breath and kissed her forehead, before finding her lips with his, “I think...it’s a _hell_ of a way to wake up, but I just want to hold you for a little while, okay?”  She rolled her eyes and laughed as she climbed over his side.  Natasha pulled him to the edge of the bed as she stood up, “Well then come on, Soldier.  If all you’re trying to do is cuddle, then I’m going to call your bluff, since you’re being _absolutely_ no fun, creatively speaking.  Let’s wake up.  I want to actually burn some energy.” 

Two hours later, after a sparring match and a tiring weights and cardio routine, Natasha had just voiced her discomfort while stretching.

“Ouch.”

“Nat, what is it?” 

She shook her head in her T-shirt and leggings, with Steve’s Army chain resting around her neck, as Steve asked what was wrong.  “Nothing, I’m fine.  It’s just…It’s my shoulder still acting up.  Laura has me doing these stretches, but sometimes…especially in the mornings, it’s just hard to loosen it up.”

She felt his presence as he came to stand right behind her, “Here, let me help you.”  Natasha tried to turn around, but Steve stopped her with his palms on her shoulders, “Shh.  Just stand still, Nat…and breathe.”  She did breathe and closed her eyes, feeling the warmth inside as he started rubbing her shoulders.  Slow, circular motions followed, “Just tell me if I’m hurting you, okay?”

“You’re not hurting me, Steve.  It’s only the one shoulder that was bothering me though.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

The flirtation was familiar, buzzing between them and their words.  If anything, the air felt even thicker this morning, after the heartfelt exchange of forgiveness the night before.  

Falling in love again.  Working out early.  Trying not to give into the temptation as tension surrounded them.  Yes, Sam and Tony and Bucky were right.  Some things were _very similar_ to how they used to be.  

Steve could tell Natasha was blushing by the way her head bowed, “No Steve, I don’t want you to stop.”

Fingers kneading in generous rotations, prodding deep into her triceps.  Energy shifting from their workout to cooldown, and now to this.  Her neck rolling back and forth with his massaging. 

Steve soaked it all in.  

The coil in her tendons.  Each ripple in her muscles.  And every breath of hers beneath his fingers.  Steve watched the beads of sweat and damp tendrils of hair at the nape of her neck, feeling even closer to Natasha than their proximity portrayed.  

Steve finally heard a sigh of relief as a little tightness relented in Natasha's shoulder.  His hands ran down her arms as he crowded in towards her.  Entangling their fingers, he pulled her arms up, as their hands reached toward the ceiling, “Still feeling okay with this?”  

Natasha let out a breathless laugh as she felt a little of that creativity Steve had promised earlier, creep into this moment, “Yeah, I’m feeling okay, Steve…more than okay.”  She couldn’t see it, but she could sense it.  Steve was blushing too as he whispered in her ear, “I think I know the stretch, so just tell me if I’m doing something wrong.”  

Steve brought her hands down and crossed both of their arms in front of her chest.  He encircled Natasha's frame, holding both of her hands in his.  And as he started pulling in the opposite direction, they both felt the strain in her shoulders.  

The air felt warmer around them as another sigh came out, “Right there, Steve.  It hurts a little still, but it’s better than before.  Keep going.”  Steve surrounded her completely with her back pressed against his chest and her behind rubbing against his thighs.  Each puff of air from his nose hit her neck, as goosebumps followed.  And his spine was tingling the entire time.  Steve pulled tighter, causing her shoulder to stretch even further.  

Natasha dug her feet into the mat they stood on, to push against his body a little more, “Mmm, yes Steve.  That feels _so good_.”  Steve couldn’t help but smile against her neck, “I think you know _exactly_ what you’re doing, Nat.  I feel like we’re at Quantico all over again, right before we went to the lake.”

Natasha smiled, “Maybe that’s not a bad thing.  That was a pretty good weekend.”  His fingers pulled around her a little more until Steve finally felt the tension and knots release in his grasp.  He let up, but never let go, “There you go, Nat.  Just breathe and feel those muscles loosen up.  I got you.”  

Another sigh as she relaxed against him.  He kissed the side of her head as he released her arms and turned her around, “How’s it feel now?”  Natasha batted her lashes slowly and looked up into his eyes, “Better.  Much better, Steve.”

Steve nodded along, and let the thoughts of what the day held pierce their heated bubble, “You ready to go shower and get ready for the day?  Bruce said we can use the small, private room on this floor.  It’ll be quiet because everyone else will be downstairs working or upstairs in their rooms.  He was able to get the room ready yesterday to...”  Steve paused as worry filled his face before he went on, “Natasha, are you sure?”

She rolled her neck back and forth again, feeling the ease in her muscles even more, “Yeah Steve.  It’s time.  Remember, you’ll be there the entire time too.  I _need_ to do this.”  Steve sighed but nodded his head.  He trusted her and _knew_ she was strong enough.  But it didn’t mean he could just stop himself from worrying.  “Okay, you go shower first.  I’ll go get us some coffee downstairs and bring it up to the room.”

She smiled and went upstairs as Steve went down to get their fuel for the day.  And they both began mentally preparing for what Natasha was going to do this morning - go under hypnosis with the help of Bruce, to try and find out whatever she was convinced was hidden inside her memories.  

* * *

**_12 Years Ago –_ **

_“Wow, this room smells like despair,” Tony laughed._

_He stood in the doorway to Sam, Bucky, and Steve’s dorm room.  Loki stood right next to him, snickering just as hard, “Yes, despair.  And cigarette smoke.  And sweat. **And** alcohol.  What’s the plan here, Stark?”_

_“To make Steve wake up with the hangover of a lifetime.  And to continue one hell of a night.”_

_Loki grinned.  Steve was shirtless, with half of his body hanging off the bed.  Natasha’s feet were draped over his neck and chest, because she was sleeping at the opposite end, snoring with her face smooshed against the wall.  Wanda was passed out in Sam’s bed, and Sam in Bucky’s.  And Bucky?  He was sprawled out with limbs everywhere, snoring even louder than Natasha, right in the middle of their dormitory floor.  “You know, Tony…We already managed to get Rogers more drunk last night, than he’s probably been in his entire lifetime.  Shouldn’t we just let him be?”_

_Tony smacked Loki on the back of the head, “Quit being soft just because Rogers is shirtless, Loki.  Last night was hilarious.  We finally got Steve to loosen up, so let’s let him wake up in the same manner…”  Loki rolled his eyes, “Yeah, or wake up with him throwing his fist in our faces.  I don’t know why I listen to you.”_

_“Listen to me?  Loki, you’re the one who somehow found absinthe in the bar last night.  How in the hell did you do that?  Do you have magical ties to the underworld or something?”_

_Loki tried to keep his laughing down, because Sam was stirring in Bucky’s bed, but he stopped and rolled right into the wall and was fast asleep still, “What can I say?  I can just recognize people who might have a darker side to them.  Thank god I do because that absinthe helped knock Mr. Perfect on his pretty and perfect ass.  You can’t argue that he finally let down his guard and had a great time with all of us.”_

_Tony and Loki had a mischievous glint in their eyes as they looked at each other, recalling the events from the night before._

_The truth was, everyone had a great night. **Everyone**. _

_And the other truth, was that the term ‘night before’ was pretty loose.  It wasn’t even really morning yet.  It was 5:30 am.  They’d only returned from a local dive bar called, ‘Logan’s,’ a few hours ago.  And Tony and Loki?  They would definitely still be categorized as inebriated if they had to take a breathalyzer.  They fell asleep in the lounge, after everyone else had passed out, and had just woken up 20 minutes ago, as a little of their drunken stupor wore off._

_Tony had the great idea (alcohol induced idea,) to keep the fun going.  Loki of course, agreed (alcohol induced agreement,) as the two men (boys) went to their own dorm rooms and retrieved shaving cream and some Vaseline.  “I don’t even want to know why you have a giant tub of Vaseline, Loki.”  Tony scoffed._

_Steve groaned loudly as the two men froze in the doorway.  But it was a false alarm.  Natasha had accidentally kicked him in the face as she rolled over, with her face now draped in between his legs, “Hey Stark, with how Steve and Romanoff are laying, it’s almost like they’re in the 69 position.”_

_“Are you a juvenile?  I’ve already walked in on them without clothes on.  Don’t put that image in my head again,” Tony laughed but stopped, because Maria’s voice came from behind, “Oh my god, I need Tylenol.  Now.  Tony?  Loki?  What are you guys doing?”_

_They turned around, like they’d been caught red-handed, but chuckled under their breaths.  She took in the site of them, completely disheveled with wrinkled clothing, mussed up hair, and sleep in her eyes.  Then she looked down at their hands and saw all the makings of soon to be pranks.  And she got the same alcohol induced glimmer in her own eyes, “I want in.  Let’s make last night live in infamy.”_  

* * *

" _S_ _hots.  Shots.  Shots.”_

_Rhodey and Thor and even Bruce, joined the group’s chants as they arrived at a hole in the wall bar named Logan's.  It was Friday night._

_The mole mission had officially ended earlier that day.  And the entire group left Fury’s lecture, after he let them all know they’d failed miserably.  So, they found themselves sitting in the dormitory lounge, all feeling like shit._

_It only took them 15 minutes of sitting around in that lounge, to decide the best way to ease their egos being squashed to pieces, was to get **absolutely** shit faced that evening.  _

_Tony stood up, “Look, we can sit around here, thinking about how pretty much all of us did something wrong with the stupid mole test.  We can mope around, thinking about how we don’t know where any of us are going to be placed in three weeks when this all ends.”_

_Stark’s voice had that edge in it, letting the group know he had no intention of doing what he was pretending to suggest, as Loki stood up by him and grinned, “Or…we can live it up.  We can forget all of our stupidity.  We can forget how Steve was once again right, and none of us listened.  We can forget how Wanda had us all duped…you’re a sexy little minx when you want to be, you know that, Maximoff?”_

_Wanda blushed as Bucky scoffed at Loki’s words._

_Everyone was hesitating.  Especially Steve.  Everyone except Maria.  She went and stood by Tony and Loki, “You know what?  I can’t believe I’m actually agreeing with you guys.  Fury gave us the weekend off.  And all we’re doing is hanging our heads, because we were all so competitive and stupid over the last three weeks.  I think burning off some steam, and drinking a hell of a lot of liquor sounds like the best idea.  Who's in?”_

_It only took a couple more minutes for everyone to stand up to start planning where they were going to drink at.  Everyone except Steve and Natasha.  They were hanging their heads even lower because of what Natasha had done, and what Steve had helped her hide and destroy with the USB drive of files._

_But they didn’t get very long to think of an excuse to try and stay back, because Wanda and Maria were coming over and pulling Natasha up, away from Steve._

_“Don’t even think about it, Natasha.  You’re coming with us,” Wanda said as Maria added, “We’re not taking no for an answer.  It’s going to be the best thing for all of us.  We may not deserve it, but we sure as hell **need** it tonight.”  _

_Natasha looked back to Steve as he raised his eyebrow at her, and she shrugged her shoulders.  But he didn’t have a moment to think either, because Sam and Bucky flanked him, and pulled him up under his arms, “Come on Rogers, no leading or thinking tonight.  You need this more than all of us.  And we all need it pretty damn bad,” Sam started as Bucky laughed, “Yeah.  Come on Steve, let’s see if you can finally show the rest of them how much you can drink.”_

_Steve stared at his brother and rolled his eyes, “I know what you’re doing, Buck.”_

_“What am I doing?  I’m simply stating the fact that you’ve been letting everyone else here, show off their drunken behavior for almost five months now on our nights out, and you’ve just been playing it cool.”_

_Tony jumped in, “Bucky, are you trying to tell me that your perfect Captain of a brother, can actually hold his liquor?  That he has it in him to get wasted with his very near and dear friends and girlfriend?”_

_Tony was obviously egging Steve on too.  And it was all in good fun.  But the final nail in the coffin was Natasha coming over behind Steve and pushing him along now.  Apparently, it only took her 30 seconds to be convinced that yes, a night of stupidity and letting loose was just what the doctor ordered, “Come on, Soldier.  It’ll be fun.”_

_20 minutes later, they were all in jeans and sweatshirts and T-shirts, not caring at all what they looked like, and heading off to Logan’s._

_And 31 minutes later, they were inside the pub, yelling “Shots. Shots. Shots.” As Tony got the first round.  It was 7 pm, and he waved everyone’s wallets off, “I think I was a big enough asshole over the last few weeks, that I owe you all several rounds tonight.”_

_No one argued, and everyone took the shots of tequila in their hands with the lime in their others and raised their glasses._

_“To three weeks left of Fury’s mind games,” Bruce said._

_“To forgetting the last three weeks of stupidity,” Rhodey added._

_“To flowing liquor and loud music,” Thor boomed._

_“To fun and friends,” Tony looked at Natasha.  They had been the leaders over the last week, in the worst way.  They'd acted ridiculous and in the most competitive ways, and they both knew it.  Now here they were, realizing just how stupid they both had been._

_Natasha laughed under her breath.  How could anyone stay mad at Tony when he was charming, to a pushy and relentless extent with his disheveled hair, wide eyes, and open pocket book.  Just wanting the people closest to him right now to have a great time._

_She smiled back at Tony, and felt that need to have a great time even more so.  Natasha nudged Steve in the shoulder as he turned and looked at her, loosening up a little more and he nudged right back.  He clinked hers and everyone else’s glasses._

_Was he disappointed in her behavior over the last week?  Yes._

_But right now?  Looking at her?  How could Steve even think of staying mad at her with those green eyes and red hair that he loved so much._

_“To family,” Steve and Natasha said at the same time as the group all downed their first shot of the night and winced from the after taste as they sucked on the sour rinds._

_“When was the last time you did tequila, Steve?”  Steve looked down at her, “Probably last year in Afghanistan.  It tastes just like I remember…”_

_Natasha pulled him down to whisper in his ear, “Maybe you can do a body shot off of me later.”  Steve jerked a little as he pulled away and looked down at her.  His face reddened even more, both from her words and the alcohol, “Nat, I wanna have fun, but I don’t want to get stupid tonight.”_

_Famous last words._

_Because Tony was already pulling Steve away, “Why the long face, Cap?  You seem a little defensive.  Everyone’s here in this fine establishment, and finally on the same page.”_

_Steve groaned, “Well, it’s been a long day, and a long three weeks, Tony.”_

_Tony smacked Steve on the shoulders, bringing him back to the bar as he ordered five pitchers of beer, and told the bartender, Logan, to keep his tab open all night for whatever anyone wanted in their group.  The man with scruffy sideburns, unruly hair, and eyes that said, ‘Don’t fucking talk to me,’ muttered under his breath.  Logan stuck a cigar in his mouth and got the drinks ready as Tony called for two shots of whiskey too._

_A minute later, Tony handed one to Steve and took the other, “Come on, Rogers.  One night, let’s just say fuck it.  Fuck the exercising and the tests and the unknown questions of tomorrow.  You always come out with us and have a good time, but I want to see you **finally** let loose.”_

_There was just...something about Tony’s charm in moments like these.  Steve chuckled, “You know, Tony.  You can be really convincing and a great leader when you want to be.  Dangerously convincing.”  Tony tapped his glass next to Steve’s as they lifted them to their lips, “Does that mean you’re convinced, Rogers?” Steve arched an eyebrow, “I guess you’ll have to wait and see.”  He threw back his shot and grabbed a few pitchers of beer to take over to everyone as Tony grabbed the rest._

_15 minutes later, Maria and Sam were picking out music on the jukebox.  “Maria, no.  Hell no, we don’t need to listen to…” But before he could stop her, Rod Stewart was blaring over the speakers as Maria sang loudly to him, “Wake up, Maggie, I think I got something to say to you…”_

_“What’s going on with Maria and Sam?” Wanda pointed with her beer in hand as she talked to Natasha.  Bucky came up and grabbed Wanda from behind, “Those two are the biggest flirts, but won’t ever commit to actually trying something.”_

_Wanda pulled Bucky toward the dancefloor as Journey’s Faithfully was playing loudly now, “Someone else was a flirt once too, and you came around, James.”  Bucky turned around and shrugged at Natasha, happily being pulled along, “Well, that’s me.  And of course I came around for you, Babe.  But you were the one who finally give me a chance.  And now I'm **your** personal flirt, always at your beck and call.” _

_30 minutes later, and another round of pitchers were gone.  Early buzzes were turning into officially feeling good and warm, as laughter filled the air.  Sam got ahold of the music finally, and played Marvin Gaye.  Tony and Natasha had officially made up and hugged, and then immediately challenged each other to a chugging contest.  Natasha won of course, but Tony just laughed._

_Egos had for once, been checked at the door of Logan’s fine establishment._

_Bruce and Loki got behind the bar, both claiming they knew how to make the perfect Long Island Iced Tea.  Bucky and Wanda left the dance floor and were actually making out in the back corner of the bar, thinking they were completely isolated (they weren’t.)_

_And Steve?_

_Well Rhodey, was saddled up to a small table with Steve and Thor.  Thor had claimed, “Your biceps are nice, Rogers.  But they’re no comparison to mine.  I’m genetically blessed, coming from my family of fighters.”  Steve...had started to officially loosen up._

_Steve laughed at Thor, “I’m from Brooklyn, Thor.  Don’t make claims you can’t back up with proof.”_

_Rhodey saw the opportunity, “Put your money where your mouth is boys.  Let’s arm wrestle!”_

_The entire bar was theirs except for Logan and a few locals who completely ignored the group’s shenanigans.  Steve and Thor agreed, and soon found themselves arm wrestling two minutes later after Rhodey gave them the go sign and declared himself as the judge.  All of their friends cheered them on._

_“Give him hell, Cap,” Sam yelled._

_“Come on, Point Break.  Beat Rogers for all of us!” Tony shouted._

_Grunting and wincing, cheering friends and drinks sloshing.  Muscles rippling under both men’s T-shirts._

_The testosterone and competitiveness on display was a sight to behold._

_Thor won the first match, and Steve was exuding masculinity that Natasha wasn't used to.  She may not have been used to it...but she liked what she saw._

_Steve demanded a second match as he flexed his arms and took another shot.  Loki and Tony looked like they were in heaven, watching their fearless moral leader finally unwind.  Loki had somehow procured his small bottle of absinthe at this point, and tried to give it to Steve, “Rogers, this will surely help you with that burly oaf.”  Steve waved him off at first._

_The second match had money changing hands now, as their friends were betting on them.  Wanda and Bucky emerged from the corner with wild and tangled hair and red lips as Sam gave them a knowing nod.  And three minutes later, after a little sweat appeared at the base of Steve’s neck, and a vein emerged in his throat, he was the victor._

_Thor slammed his hands on the table, “Best of three.  Best out of three, right?  A true victory cannot be claimed until the battle is officially won.”  Apparently, Thor’s verbiage became something from the days of yore, with the more liquor he took in.  Another round of shots were drank between the two men with bulging biceps, and Rhodey yelled, “Go!”_

_Steve’s face was red.  Thor's brow was sweaty.  AC/DC’s music was loud as everyone fell into drunken buffoonery.  The few locals left the pub now, leaving Logan’s officially to the 11 friends._

_Steve looked like he could burst out of his T-shirt, and Thor looked like he was going to bust the small wooden table.  After four minutes of sighing and straining and grunting and growling, Steve won, but looked like he’d just run a marathon._

_Tony grabbed the small bottle of absinthe from Loki and poured it in the Long Island Iced Tea that Bruce handed to him.  Tony gave it to Steve, congratulating him on the victory.  The sweet and sour concoction tasted delicious with all the blended liquors as he guzzled it down, absinthe and all._

_And Natasha stood behind Steve, watching the sweat trickle along his neck.  She took in his poor shirt, which looked like it wanted to pack up and leave with what he’d put it through over the last half hour.  She stared at his strong hands and the liquid on his lips as her thoughts dove as far into the gutter as imaginable._

_“Nat!  Did you see?  I won, Baby!”_

_That was the first **real** sign that Steve Rogers was well on his way to getting wasted tonight.  _

_Natasha quirked her eyebrow, “Baby?”  She heard his accent and the signs of Brooklyn shine through his voice as he grabbed her waist and lowered his lips to her ear, “Would you rather me call you, Darling?  Or Honey?  Or how about, Suga?”_

_She couldn’t help but laugh as Tony was passing out another round of shots to everyone, “Suga?  I don’t think I’ve **ever** heard you say that word since I’ve known you, Steve Rogers.  And if you have, you certainly didn’t say it like you were part of the Dodgers’ baseball team from the 40’s.”_

_Steve pulled away from her ear to stare as his fingers tightened around her hip, “Do you know how sexy it is, that you just referenced Dodgers baseball, Nat?”_

_She felt warm before, watching his testosterone take hold from his match with Thor.  That feeling was back now, even stronger, with his hand on her hip and his smoldering stare.  They’d been at the bar for a couple of hours, and had drank enough to make someone think they’d been there all day and night._

_“Probably as sexy as watching your arms try to find a release from your T-shirt before, Soldier.”_

_Before they could continue their flirting...bordering on obscenity...with the looks they were giving, Wanda and Maria were pulling Natasha onto the dancefloor.  Thor came over and picked up Steve from behind, “Good match, my friend.  Good match.  You are much stronger than you look!”  Thor put him down as both men clutched their chests and burst out laughing like a couple of toddlers._

_That was pretty much the last thing that Steve remembered clearly from the evening, as the absinthe fully kicked in, and as he watched his beautiful red-headed girlfriend dance with her friends._

_Flashes of Thor and Rhodey and Bruce taking their shirts off, with Maria and Sam and Loki dancing on the bar an hour later would linger.  Snippets of Wanda pulling Bucky outside, to do god knows what, were there.  Just as flickers of Natasha yanking Steve onto the small dancefloor an hour later remained._

_But it was all fuzzy._

_If he would have remembered clearly, he would have seen Natasha bring two more shots of tequila with her, "Let's spice up the Cuervo this time, Rogers."  She dabbled a little liquor on her neck and then licked his own._

_Sprinkled salt on wet skin followed.  Natasha licked Steve first, lapping up each grain of salt.  She downed the shot before shoving the lime into his mouth backwards, and sucked it dry between their lips._

_Steve groaned and didn't wait.  He licked her neck clean of the liquor, but then pulled the dip in Natasha’s T-shirt down farther._

_His tongue trailing along her cleavage.  Salt being soaked up.  A shot hitting the back of his throat.  And Steve’s own lime drained of its juices, between Natasha’s plump lips.  It all followed the absinthe, and he would have remembered each delicious drop if he wasn't already three sheets to the wind._

_And then, Steve would have seen there was no space between them anymore with their lewd dancing, as Natasha grinded her ass into his groin while Def Leppard blared.  He would have remembered groping and making out with her in an obscene manner, not caring who saw._

_And no one did care, because everyone was feeling more than pretty good at that hour.  Tony had appeased Logan with a five-thousand-dollar tip for the evening.  To which the gruff man responded by pretty much turning the keys over to Tony as he went to his office, grumbling with his cigar, “Fucking kids.”  But he didn’t let anyone else inside the bar that night either._

_Well past midnight, Loki lit some shots on fire and Natasha and Tony were making up and apologizing to each other **again,** for being asses during the mole test.  And Steve took in the sight of them making up, realizing this was the best group of friends he could imagine and wobbled as he stood up on a chair, “Three weeeeks, Guys.  Threee weeks left, everyonee!”_

_Natasha went over to stand on a chair right at his side to help support him.  Tony and Loki high fived each other in the background, congratulating themselves on a successful night of unleashing Steve Rogers (and everyone else in the process)._

_Natasha tried to help Steve keep his balance, even though she wasn’t the most stable either.  But they kept standing as the music roared and their friends cheered in a flurry of words, “Three weeks...No more fighting...Let’s make the most of it!”_

_Everyone cheered as Steve jumped down and Natasha jumped right into his arms.  The only reason they didn’t fall is because Thor and Sam were there to keep them upright as they all laughed._

_Somehow at that moment, the idea was born for them to return to Quantico and play tag...to ‘prepare themselves for Hogan’s Alley.’  Which of course sounded like the best idea ever, seven hours into drinking._

_Why wouldn't it?_

_By the time they did return to Quantico, it was almost 2 AM.  Rhodey and Bruce were puking.  And the nine other friends thought they were playing a game of tag, to work on their teamwork for the last actual exercise, coming up in a couple of weeks._

_What they thought...and what it actually looked like, were two very different pictures.  They thought they looked like a black ops team in the middle of the night, swooping in and out undetected, to recover a hostage.  What they **actually** looked like, was more akin to a litter of newborn puppies flopping around on a wooden floor, not being able to see straight or stay upright.  _

_They were all **hammered** , but Steve was by far the most gone.  When Natasha was ‘It’ in their game of drunken tag, he’d tackled her to the ground and started making out with her in the grass and suggested they have sex right there...not caring they were in front of everyone.  She burst out laughing, “Okay Soldier, time to get you to bed.  You’re not going to remember any of this tomorrow.”  _

_Sam and Thor needed help themselves, but somehow found a way to help Steve up the stairs and into his bedroom.  Natasha was close behind them as Sam groaned, “You’re a lot heavier than you look, Cap.”_

_Steve lifted his head and slurred, “I had a big breakfast, Sammy.”  He collapsed on the floor as Wanda fell into Sam’s bed.  Thor and everyone else left the five of them.  And Tony and Loki went to the lounge, eating cheeseburgers they somehow found, and were laughing their asses off the entire way._

_Steve tried to drink a glass of water that Natasha gave him, but he spilled it all over his shirt.  By the time he’d taken the soaked tee off and crawled into his twin bed, Natasha was passed out at the opposite end, with her face pressed against the wall._

_Steve hugged Natasha’s feet as Bucky muttered, “Punk,” before he fell asleep on the floor where Steve just was.  Sam looked around at his friends and roommates, “Man, we’re gonna pay for this tomorrow, but it sure was worth it.”  And he crawled over to Bucky’s bed and passed out too._

_So, several hours later, as the first layer of alcohol had buzzed through their system and wore off, Loki, Tony, and Maria were awake.  Still more than half-drunk, they looked at the five people passed out and couldn’t help themselves._

_Maria coated Sam’s hands and the doorknob with Vaseline.  Tony stuck Bucky’s hand in warm water, realizing the likelihood of him peeing himself would be high.  And Loki ogled Steve’s shirtless body, as he tickled his nose with a feather after filling his hands with shaving cream.  Five minutes later, Steve was covered in white fluff, Bucky’s pants were soaked, and Sam’s ankles were tied while his hands were covered in Vaseline.  They decided to leave the women alone before Tony pulled the final prank from his bag.  A megaphone that he'd managed to procure from Fury’s office._

_Tony winked at Loki and Maria before he turned the megaphone on, “Wakey, wakey, Asshats!  Time for that morning run, Rogers!  No time for slacking, now that we’re so close to the finish line!”_

_Sam shot up and rolled out of bed right away, “What the hell?”  Bucky sprang up, instantly feeling his headache and noticing his wet pants and then looked at Tony and Loki and Maria, “You fuckers are dead.”_

_And Natasha sprang away from Steve, shoving him right out of bed and onto the floor, on top of his brother.  Two birds, one stone.  Bucky was now covered in shaving cream too.  Wanda and Natasha blinked heavily, looking at each other’s drunken and hangover filled states.  They groaned, feeling the pounding in their heads as the three pranksters snickered and shut the door._

_Sam tried to stand up but tripped over his bound feet and smacked Bucky in the face with his Vaseline covered hands.  Two birds, one stone.  Bucky was now covered in Vaseline too.  The three men were dogpiled on top of each other, as Bucky and Sam sort of slithered their way to the door.  They couldn’t get a grip on the greasy doorknob as they heard Loki and Maria and Tony howling in laughter outside._

_And Steve looked up at Natasha, as his mouth started watering and his body became burning hot.  He looked green in the gills and shot up quicker than lightning as he hopped over his brother and Sam.  He used his shirt on the ground to grip the handle and open the door.  Tony had this worried expression on his face that Steve was going to punch him, but he didn’t._

_Instead, Steve burst past Tony and sprinted to the bathroom to puke his guts out.  Natasha and Wanda laid back down, not even being able to think right now.  They knew they were all in for a world of hurt that day, with Steve leading the way.  And Steve...crawled back into bed, this time cuddling with Natasha face-to-face at the foot of his mattress.  He’d washed his head and face and mouth after throwing up.  And he wiped his chest down before throwing on a fresh T-shirt._

_Steve tucked her into his arms, as they heard Bucky and Sam finally stand up to chase after Loki, Tony, and Maria.  Natasha was whispering something about Steve still calling her, “Suga.”  And he mumbled, “No talking.  Everything hurts.”_

_But it was worth it._

_In three weeks, their lives would change and none of them knew what lay ahead yet.  So, even with the pranks and hangovers and debauchery, the night of care-free fun was more than worth it.  It was a night the 11 of them would remember forever, even if some of them couldn’t remember everything from it._  

* * *

 ** _4 Years Ago –_ ** _Russia_

_“Wake up, Soldier.”_

_Steve heard the soothing sounds of her voice first, and then the brushes of her soft hair against his neck followed.  He could smell the familiar scent of vanilla and cinnamon on her skin as her hand found his.  He loved being overwhelmed by all of her, no matter what time of day it was.  But in the mornings like this, it all felt so serene...like home.  Keeping his eyes shut tight, he pulled her in a little closer, “Let’s just stay here a little longer, Nat.”_

_She chuckled, “Steve Rogers...Nap or sleep, it doesn’t matter...You’re the human snooze button.”  Steve could feel the tickling sensation from her lips as she went on, “Steve, we have to be at your mother’s by 9 AM.  I don’t want Wanda and Bucky to beat us there today.”_

_She could feel Steve grinning now as his fingers dug into her waist, “Well then, I guess we better get a move on…”_

_But he didn’t move any other part of himself.  Natasha pinched his side as she draped her leg over his waist and sat up, right on top of him in a compromising position.  She knew what she was doing.  And Steve couldn’t resist opening his eyes now, as he peeked at her beaming down at him._

_The morning sun was shining in the bedroom window, “I don’t think this is really helping your case, Nat.  I’m not feeling particularly motivated at the moment to go see my family...who we see all the time by the way.”_

_Natasha was stretching her arms towards the ceiling, “Is that a fact?”_

_“Mmm hmm.  Besides, there are so many more…interesting things that are inspiring me right now.”  Natasha smacked his chest lightly and leaned down to peck him on the lips, “I got a nice preview of that inspiration last night, Steve.  And don’t talk about something you know we can’t finish right now.”_

_Steve moved quickly, snatching her wrists before pinning them to her own waist under his fingers.  He pressed firmly against them as he pulled her down onto his...excitement for her, in the early hours of the morning.  A breath she was trying to hold in escaped at his rough tone, “Who said anything about not being able to finish something?  I have every intention of seeing this whole thing through.”_

_Natasha rolled her eyes, but stopped as he repeated the motion.  Only this time, he lifted his own hips off the bed.  Their bed...in their apartment._

_“Steve,” Natasha started.  Her voice was a little less sure than it was 10 seconds ago, but she kept trying, “Come on.  Clint is coming over today.  You and Bucky promised you were going to try and get him into watching football with you this afternoon, while Wanda and I help your mom bake cookies for the fundraiser at her work.”_

_Steve wouldn’t stop moving though, “Nat…I love how much you love my brother and mom.  And I love that Wanda and you are practically part of our family…You should be.  We’ve been together for almost four years.  And I love that Clint keeps getting closer to all of us.”_

_His hands moved from her hips to her stomach, before travelling up her chest and skimming over her breasts.  A soft little whimper came out, and his fingers finally grasped her neck as he pulled her down to meet his own lips.  Steve knew what he was doing too, in this little morning wake-up dance.  He pushed into her again, “But I swear, if you delay this any longer, and keep talking about James and Clint and every other person we know, you’re going to ruin the mood.”_

_Now Steve felt her lips turn upward as she caved and kissed him back, “You win this time, Steve.  But make it quick.  I meant what I said.  I don’t want to be late.”_  

* * *

_Steve jerked in his sleep, very much awake now as his eyes shot open.  It wasn’t their apartment.  It wasn’t four years into their relationship._

_He was in Russia.  In Natasha's safehouse._

_The dream was just one moment in time.  Just one of countless wake-ups in their life.  Nothing special or spectacular.  Just a memory, leading into a Sunday family day at Sarah’s.  One where Clint agreed to come.  One that started off hot and heavy, with Steve and Natasha in bed, like so many other mornings…and nights…and times in between.  One that ended up being a very lovely day full of laughter and family and 24 dozen chocolate chip cookies._

_One that taunted Steve as he laid wide awake now._

_It was early.  It was dark out still, and Natasha was in his arms in a very different life.  The memory was fresh in Steve’s brain as he held her close against his chest._

_Natasha wasn’t asleep though._

_She’d felt him shift and woke up right away too, “Nightmare or bad dream?”  Her hands were around his waist as they tightened a little as he responded, “How about memories surfacing with bad timing?”_

_Talking about what Steve had dreamt of could lead to a very sticky conversation.  Natasha had the same memories haunting her.  It didn’t matter whether it was that Sunday or a holiday, or a random Tuesday at the FBI that lingered.  Any one of them could’ve led to an explosive fallout immediately, so they both steered clear from all of it._

_Honestly, their thoughts were more consumed with what the day would bring now that they were awake._

_Steve had felt it hours ago when he carried her to bed.  He’d felt it ever since he first laid eyes on her at the Palace.  What he felt, was the end approaching.  This time between them was an anomaly.  It was a moment that was stolen, and both of their realities were going to come calling with a force, pulling both Steve and Natasha back from this reprieve._

_They were both exhausted from the journey through their long evening.  Combine that with the memories that felt like a raw wound.  Add to it, the avoidance of not wanting to deal with what would happen once they got out of bed._

_Avoidance.  Denial.  It was really a mixture of both, that caused Steve to start battling the impending feeling inside._

_Three years without her in his morning wake-up routine was too long.  A single day used to be too long in their life together, before the yearning used to take hold.  In some twisted way, Steve was still acting as that human snooze button as he shut his eyes and said something he really shouldn’t have even been thinking, “What if I didn’t go back, Natasha?”_

_Natasha shut her eyes, and fell into that desperation too as she inhaled every part of him she could.  Holding on a little tighter, she responded with something she had no business pretending, “What if we went somewhere together, Steve?  Where only the two of us existed?”_

_“I could build us a house, in some hidden woods somewhere by a river or lake.”_

_Avoid.  Avoid.  Avoid._

_A simple game of make believe, was harmless enough on the surface, right?_

_Steve knew this dangerous game was letting their hearts run wild for a minute.  Before reality came calling.  But he couldn’t help it.  The vivid memory of a random Sunday wake-up, mixed with what’d happened only a few hours ago in the bathroom...It all scrambled together and influenced any actual logic and reasoning._

_It was like the only thing that could relax both of them right now, was leaning into this tempting ‘What If,’ scenario._

_Natasha’s words pulled him farther along, “I hope you don’t think I’d be some stay at home housemaid, while your shirtless and building this secluded cabin in the woods for us, Rogers.”  Steve smiled against the crown of her head, “Course not.  You’ve always been better with a knife than me, Romanoff.  You’d be out hunting us dinner each day while I built us our shack.  Wait, why am I automatically shirtless, Natasha?”_

_Playful and innocent.  Until it wasn't._

_It was a bad idea from the start, because it quickly turned serious._

_Steve breathed in, like he was trying to memorize everything about her right now, “What if I was serious, Nat?  What if you told me everything, you’re being dishonest with me about, and we ran?”_

_And just like that, reality came calling._

_“Steve.”_

_He couldn’t do this.  Steve wasn’t kidding when he’d told her the last three years were miserable without her.  He was so angry at her, and in a way, he was even more angry at himself for being unable to move on.  But after three years of trying, he’d ended up in Russia with her anyway.  And there was part of him that really just wanted to say, ‘to hell with everything,’ right now._

_Natasha knew this wasn’t going to end well.  She knew it last night, but god...the reminder of Steve and how good they felt together made her weak.  So weak, that she caved the minute he’d followed her into the bathroom.  Or the minute they pulled into the safehouse...or the minute he’d pulled her onto the dancefloor._

_But Natasha knew the end was unavoidable.  The point of bringing Steve here was too get him out of Russia safely.  It was **not** to do something like run away together, only to have Ivan and Oksana hunt them down after whatever short period of time they could hide for.  _

_The path with their little fantasy would surely end in both of their deaths._

_Natasha pulled away and sat up in bed, “Steve, you don’t belong in my world.  Last night was a beautiful reminder of our five years together, but you don’t belong here.”_

_“Neither do you,” Steve sat up too._

_Natasha scoffed, “Steve, this is my world.  Safehouses.  Being on the run.  Crime.  Dark alleys, and secret conversations.  This is **my** world.  I was born into it, and you need to realize that I did get to run away.  I got to run away with you for five years, but reality comes calling when you run.  That’s just how it is.”  She was trying to push him away again, “Our lives exist in two different realities.”_

_His forehead creased, "You weren’t born into it.  You were forced into it.  And our lives **weren't** in two different worlds, Natasha.  You were in the FBI.  We lived together, and you were a damn good agent.  You’re not pushing me away, and I'm not letting you go."_

_Steve sat at the edge of the bed now as Natasha stood up.  She battled between the unspoken love she was feeling, and the pain and anger from their reality and his refusal to accept it.  She leaned into the latter, "Steve you're not going to arrest me.  I know that, and so do you."_

_Steve didn't know what would happen today, after he carried Natasha to bed last night.  Logically, only a few options existed outside of running and arresting, but he refused to acknowledge that this might be it before they had to part ways._

_So, he met her stubbornness and upped the ante.  “I'm not going to arrest you, but that doesn't mean I'm not taking you with me.”  Steve stood up and went down the hallway to get the handcuffs.  Their make-believe bubble sure had burst quickly.  But what did they think was going to happen if no answers or resolutions were actually given?_

_It was a harsh wake-up call, that contrasted with chirping birds and soft colors appearing through the window as dawn approached.  And right along with dawn, was the abrupt sound of a car door shutting.  Steve didn’t go to the counter to pick up the cuffs.  He went to the window instead._

_Yes, the harshness of their reality was here.  Clint had arrived, but he wasn't in a car.  He was in Steve's rented Lada Niva.  "Son of a bitch,” Steve was surprised as he said it, and Natasha shut her eyes.  This was such a mess...Wake-up call or not.  Right now, she wasn't going to talk, and Steve wasn't going to leave._

_Clint came inside, and saw about 15 feet of space between Steve and Natasha, physically.  He looked at the cuffs on the counter, saw the clothes they were wearing, and picked up on all the unspoken cues and energy in the room.  It was all that was needed to see there was actually about a thousand feet separating them, emotionally._

_Clint looked like he'd had a hell of an evening himself from the bags under his eyes and his mussed-up hair.  He didn't need to know the specifics of what happened in the safehouse.  He could tell.  There’d been a hell of a lot of physical communicating between the two idiots in front of him, and not nearly enough actual talking._

_Never one to sugar coat something that needed to be said, Clint blew out a breath, "Jesus Christ, Tasha.  You really know how to throw all your sensibility out the window when it comes to Rogers.  Did you guys manage to say anything to each other at all?"_

_Yes and no._

_Steve was glaring at Natasha, not wanting to air their dirty laundry in front of Clint, but he was already at his breaking point and said fuck it, internally.  "Yeah Clint, your sister over there gnawed my ear off with all her words of wisdom.  I'm sure you have some great advice too, so let me sum up what she's already said.  She chose to run and come back to this life…This life that has the two of you hiding out in a hole in the wall in the middle of Russia.  I mean I can see why, with how great and accommodating this place is."_

_Clint raised his eyebrow at Steve's sarcasm as his voice got louder.  But then Clint looked over at his sister, who’d once again, thrown all of her craft and skills out the window when Steve Rogers was involved.  Hopeless lovers in love?  Yes.  Clint knew that and felt bad for both of them in a way.  He liked Steve and had gotten close to him.  If he was pressed a few years ago, he probably would've even said they were like family.  And he was pissed off from leaving the life he started to enjoy too._

_But that was in the past._

_And Clint lived in harsh truths._

_So, this?  Right now?  Clint rolled his eyes because Natasha was being stupid.  And from his perspective, he could already tell that he was going to have to be the bad guy here.  But Steve kept talking, "I don't suppose you're going to shed any light on either of your actions that would make any goddamn sense, are you Clint?"_

_Shit._

_Clint blew out a breath, "Look Rogers, I don't think there's any answers to give you.  This is a part of the world you don't belong in.  You shouldn't be here in the first place.  I'm sorry to sound that way.  You're a good guy, but you need a **serious** wake-up call.  I have your SUV outside that I was able to track down through the hotel.  You already had it all packed up, so all your stuff's inside of it.  You need to get in it and leave."_

_Steve’s jaw clenched as he narrowed his eyes, "I'm getting real sick and tired of you both telling me where I should be, how I should feel, and what I should be doing…And all the while, you're both still lying to me.  Natasha, I'm not leaving Russia without some answers.  So, here's a wake-up call for you.  I may not arrest you because you're right...I don't want to see you thrown into a black hole in the States.  But it doesn't mean I'm going to stop...I’m not, until you tell me the truth.  Why did you betray me?  Why did you take those files and set those Russians free?  The Natasha I knew would never…"_

_Steve stopped, overcome with emotions as he looked down.  And Natasha held back her tears as she looked at Clint eyeing her, silently telling her she needed to nip this in the bud... **really quick**.  _

_Natasha didn't want to do this.  Everything that happened last night in the bathroom was incredible, but it was stolen.  She was right last night.  Now wasn’t their time.  If she was going to right any of her wrongs, she had to make sure Steve was safe.  And he wasn't going to leave here without a push._

_"Steve, Clint and I chose to come back to this life.  You need to leave it at that.  Just because you don't like what you hear, doesn't mean it's not true.  Last night didn't change anything."_

_It was like she had slapped Steve.  She didn't want to leave him.  But running or staying here with him?  It wasn’t possible.  Not now.  Not on a whim like this.  Not while Ivan and Oksana's suspicions were high from the abrupt end to the Gala last night._

_Three years of following every order of theirs didn't make a difference if they smelled blood in the water.  And Natasha knew if they even had a whiff of deception, or of Steve being over here, they were as good as gone._

_That seed...her wanting to course correct, had officially started to grow inside Natasha as she thought again, 'I have to make things right.  I have to take Ivan and Oksana down.'_

_Clint went to make some coffee in the kitchen, and looked at his sister, reminding her again with his stare alone, that she needed to get moving.  They were on a tight schedule._

_Natasha took a deep breath and ignored the way Steve was glaring at her now, as she went back to the bedroom to start changing into something to be able to leave in.  And Steve quickly followed.  He slammed the door shut behind him, "If you think you're going to just run out on me after last night…"_

_Rinse.  Wash.  Repeat._

_"Damn it, Steve.  You're not supposed to be here.  I can't do this right now.  You **need** to go home."  Steve walked up behind Natasha and grabbed her arm to pull her towards him, "And you **need** to stop lying to me."_

_They stood like that for a good five seconds before Natasha tried to move, but Steve wouldn't let her go.  His voice was riddled with anger, "No.  Quit riding this line of telling me you still mean everything in that note without giving me any answers.  You let down your walls last night for a little bit.  I felt it.  You're not telling me something.  So, quit lying to me."_

_Natasha shut her eyes and took a breath, "I wasn't lying when I told you I still meant it.  And I wasn't lying when I told you there are no answers for your questions now.  Two things can be true at once, Steve.  You're going to have to figure out a way to accept that."_

_"What a load of bull."_

_They were right back in their standoff, headed for a blowout as they heard a loud noise from the kitchen and jumped.  Steve tried to protect Natasha by stepping in front of her, and Natasha did the same exact thing, stepping in front of him.  They ended up moving right into each other._

_"Stay here, Natasha."_

_"Stay here, Steve."_

_Their voices came out simultaneously as she rolled her eyes, and he huffed out a breath.  They opened the door to the short hallway as Natasha made her way to the kitchen first, "Clint?"_

_Clint was there and was standing against the sink with his hands in the air.  And one of Oksana and Ivan's goons was pointing a gun directly at him from the doorway to the outside._

_Natasha's stomach immediately dropped, "Alexi, what are you doing here?"_

_It was too late for Steve to hide.  He was right behind Natasha, and Alexi saw him right away._

_There was a glint in his eye as he sneered in his thick Russian accent, "The prodigal daughter returned, promising loyalty by doing Ivan and Oksana's bidding for three years.  Yet I find you here, Yelena.  How curious."_

_Alexi, along with Rumlow and Rollins, were raised by their handlers since childhood with Clint and Natasha.  Natasha was always the most gifted, and the fact that she'd come back, had only angered the people who never left...like Alexi.  He and Rumlow in particular, had it out for Natasha in a worse way than most of their peers...if you could call them that._

_Yes, she was naturally the most gifted.  She was smarter, and a better spy than them to an infuriating extent.  But they’d **never** trusted her.  So, the fact that Alexi caught her red handed right now, was pretty much one of the worst things that could’ve happened.  And it's exactly what Natasha feared because now Steve was in danger.  _

_Steve didn't know who the man was exactly, besides one of their handlers’ cretins who’d been running around Red Square last night.  But what he did know, was that he fucking hated how he was staring at Natasha...Like she was a deer in the site of a hunting rifle.  Steve stepped forward but Alexi continued._

_"Now the question is, where are you exactly?  You must have been awfully worried to have not made sure I went in the same direction as Rumlow and Rollins, Clint.  It's not like you, to make even the slightest mistake.  I knew it had **something** to do with your sister when I was able to follow you, and you didn't notice right away.  So, I stayed quiet.  And low and behold, I find you here too, Natasha.  With your former lover."_

_Steve's eyes shifted to Natasha who was panicking right now.  Her eyes darted between Clint, the gun, and Steve repeatedly, as the nervous tension became palpable._

_"Alexi…"_

_Natasha was cut off by him as he shifted and pointed the gun at Steve now.  "No!!" Natasha yelled as he gave a toothy grin, "Interesting, Yelena.  Maybe I should test you, just like all of our tests to prove our loyalty.  Loyalty...you know what that is, right?  Maybe I should make you choose…"_

_Natasha was frantic in her breathing looking back and forth at Clint and Steve, and taking in her surroundings, trying to strategize as Alexi shifted the barrel of the gun between the two men._

_"What is our little Yelena...Our **gifted** little Yelena, that has always shined like the rising sun with her talents...What is she doing?  No matter how many times she spits in the face of Mother Russia.  No matter how many times she has shown her traitorous colors...What is our little Yelena doing here, in a hidden house that no one knows about, sneaking around with her brother and her perfect Captain?"_

_Steve was counting the seconds it would take to reach him.  Clint was trying to locate a knife within reach.  Natasha was keeping her eyes on the gun.  Always on the gun, "Alexi, let me explain."_

_God, it sounded as unconvincing as could be.  And Alexi's tone darkened, "No.  Quiet, you traitorous whore.  You don't say a single word with that serpent tongue of yours.  The next word out of your mouth will be your choice on who lives and who dies.  Or they both will die.  So you choose.  The Captain or Clint.  One word from our great savior, to save the man you need most."_

_"Stop it, Alexi.  Shut up.  I think we both know there is one of two ways this ends.  You made that clear the minute you came in here and drew your gun on my brother."_

_Heavy breathing was heard as the nervous feeling in the air began to suffocate.  "You won’t choose one to live?  How selfish of you.  You've sealed the fate of both men in your life, Natasha."  Alexi shifted again, with the gun now directed at Steve, and Natasha's heart was pounding loud enough that she felt it in her ears._

_But the three of them were able to communicate some sort of jumbled plan between each other as Steve stared at Clint and then the coffee mug._

_"Hey Alexi...want a cup of coffee, you asshole?"_

_Clint threw the cup of burning liquid at the Russian’s head.  He had absolutely perfect aim as the mug made contact with a thud against his cheek just as Alexi turned.  The scalding liquid poured into his eyes as Steve instantly charged at him, snapping his wrist back hard enough to hear it break as the gun fell to the ground._

_Adrenaline was pumping as Alexi screamed._

_Steve was about to yell to get the handcuffs, but he didn't get the chance.  Because Natasha bolted forward into a handstand, and her body did the rest.  In a flurry of movements, her feet wrapped around Alexi's neck, yanking his body to the ground with a thud._

_Alexi groaned loudly from the impact, and her feet remained around his neck as she landed on her side right by him.  With her head by his knees, and her feet secured around his neck, Natasha didn't wait a second, "You remember, you started this when you stuck your nose where it didn’t belong.  You want me to make a choice?  You die, Alexi.  That's my choice."_

_Natasha flexed her muscular thighs, and her hips contorted with a powerful thrust that rippled down her body.  Feet twisted around his neck like a vice.  A forceful crack followed.  And he was dead._

_As quick as it took Natasha and Steve to walk from the bedroom to the kitchen, Alexi was dead._  

* * *

_The mess had just gotten exponentially worse as Alexi’s dead body lay in the middle of the space between the tiny kitchen and the tiny living room and the tiny hallway._

_It all made the small house seem even more...tiny._

_Clint and Natasha knew within the blink of an eye, as soon as Alexi found his way into the house, that there was no other end for him that could be allowed.  This wasn’t a court of law.  This wasn’t a normal life, and they didn’t play by normal rules._

_This was **their** life in a kill or be killed world, and Alexi 100 percent would have ratted them out, setting up all of their demises instantaneously after he’d had his fun.  Natasha was asked to make a choice.  And she did.  If she didn’t do it, Clint would have.  _

_Steve would’ve killed him, if he found himself defending either of them from Alexi.  But this was a step beyond that, as she fell into the rhythm of her life.  Natasha knew the world she lived in required sacrifices of all kinds.  She wasn’t going to wait and see if Alexi was going to pull the trigger or not.  Or worse...to see if he was going to run off and sound the alarms, turning their mess of a situation into something they couldn’t clean up._

_No._

_Natasha wouldn’t let it get to that point.  She couldn’t.  It would be the death nail for all three of them.  And before she could look at the expression on Steve’s face, muscle memory and routine took over, “Clint, go outside right now and check this asshole’s car to see if he has any transmitting signals or GPS communication anywhere.  With any stroke of luck, he didn’t and we just have to deal with him.”_

_Clint picked the gun up from the floor and was out of the house in a second as Natasha got to work.  She started patting Alexi’s body down, trying to locate his phone.  She pulled his wallet from him, and a lighter, a pack of cigarettes, and his car keys.  “You son of a bitch, where’s your goddamn phone?”  Natasha groaned as she talked to herself, reaching underneath to check his back pockets in his jeans now._

_And Steve?_

_Steve felt like he’d fallen.  No, like he was falling, farther and farther down that rabbit hole he’d jumped into, when he first started learning about Natasha’s life back at Quantico.  Part of him felt like he could be sick with what just happened.  He’d seen women and children murdered brutally in front of his eyes overseas at war.  He’d killed men.  Many men.  He’d seen Natasha shoot and kill people in the field at the FBI.  He’d had missions that’d gone awry in the FBI that ended in brutal violence and near misses that scared the shit out of him.  One in particular had scared him to his core that involved the woman below him...That prompted him to give her a journal and start planning a proposal that would never come._

_How truly long ago that seemed right now, with Natasha rummaging through the man’s body who she’d just killed._

_But this?  This was different._

_This was Steve’s first real glimpse.  His first-glance into the actual world that Natasha lived in.  Kill or be killed.  And Natasha just killed this man before his eyes, in a heartbeat without a second thought.  It wasn’t a question of whether it was justifiable or not.  It was that right now, Steve found himself right inside the underbelly of society, realizing just how different it was from the world he’d left._

_This was the life of the criminals he arrested and how they survived day to day.  There were no rules of engagement guiding their way.  There were no laws and norms restricting them and telling them when it was okay to shoot and not shoot.  It was his first glance, realizing first hand all the horrors that Natasha had told him about from her childhood.  And they were so much more horrifying in person.  Steve thought of all of the tests she’d told him about, and saw that fierce warrior they’d created over the years, in action right now.  She snapped Alexi’s neck without a second thought because she knew she had to._

_There wasn’t a choice.  If she left him alive, they’d all be dead.  If not today, soon._

_He wasn’t feeling dizzy because he saw Natasha in a negative light.  No.  Quite the contrary.  Steve was dumbfounded at her strength for the millionth time in his life.  He was amazed at her resolve.  Despite everything she’d been through, she was still the woman he was hopelessly in love with.  The woman that had left him that note.  She was still the woman in her heart, that was with him last night._

_Hearing and learning about this world, from dealing with criminals and knowing Natasha was one thing.  But seeing and experiencing it, was an entirely different...reality.  And Steve was feeling nauseous at the sickening existence and the unfairness at it all._

_Natasha’s voice broke through though, “Steve.”_

_He looked down at her, and for a second there was a glimpse of worry in her eyes, like she was nervous about what he was thinking.  But Natasha didn’t have time to delve into that right now.  Instead, she kept going, “Steve, hold him on his side, I need to find his phone, and part of his jacket is tucked under his body.  I can’t reach it on my own.”_

_He nodded and farther down the rabbit hole he went._

_He was helping Natasha hold up a dead body, so she could go through the motions...of god knows what came next._

_Steve would find himself very much emerged in the dark side of the internet and society, over the course of the next two years.  He would break all sorts of rules and laws in four years from now, pulling her from this exact life by saving her._

_But right now, he was at the beginning, and it was really fucking hard to comprehend anything clearly._

_Steve came to Russia to find Natasha and bring her back to America.  Steve **had** come to Russia and found her, but also found himself quickly immersed in her world.  And honestly?  He was scared to death for her and him and Clint right now as his mind started reeling.  _

_“Got it.”_

_Natasha went to the settings to turn off the GPS and network immediately on the phone.  Then she went through and found where his phone had last pinged, “Son of a bitch, we got lucky, Steve.  Thank god for the shitty Russian cellular structure in the countryside and a busy festival at Red Square that jammed cell towers.  He last pinged inside Moscow.”_

_Steve took a step back and just watched now.  She went through Alexi’s contacts to make sure he hadn’t contacted anyone.  He hadn’t.  And when Clint came back in, he had the same reaction, “We’re lucky Tash.  Fucking idiot stole a car from the square that was old enough to not have any GPS on it.  I scanned it, and it doesn’t seem to have anything transmitting from it.”_

_Her brow lifted, “Wow, how often does luck fall on us when things go wrong?  I guess we should count our blessings, right?”_

_They smirked at each other.  The motions they were going through.  The dry humor and heavy sarcasm.  The back and forth, was all...so natural.  How could it not be?  It was their life and how they’d survived through the entirety of it._

_“So, are we getting rid of the body or are we setting it up as a frame job?  Either way has its pros and cons.”  Clint asked as he went to get a cup of that goddamn coffee he was making before he was so rudely interrupted by Alexi._

_More glimpses of their life and decision making that made up their days, were on display right before Steve’s eyes.  He took another step backwards into the shadows of the house as he remembered Natasha’s words, ‘You’re not supposed to be here.  This isn’t our time.  We are from two different realities.’_

_Steve’s heart found a way to break a little more, realizing she wasn’t saying those things because she was pushing him away.  She was saying those things because she believed them with every fiber of her being.  Steve was watching how she lived.  He was watching the decisions she had to make (how often?) outside the law, on her own, with surviving as the only end goal._

_And Steve was disgusted with all of it._

_Because he loved her._

_He loved every part of her.  Even this darker part that he’d only heard of and maybe seen shadows of in their life.  He’d fought side-by-side with her for five beautiful years, but nothing ever happened like this.  Because Steve and Natasha grounded each other.  They made each other better.  They got to fall in love in normal (somewhat) circumstances and have normal (somewhat) jobs as agents in the FBI.  They’d been in the military and knew law and order well._

_This was **not** law and order.  This was lawlessness and disorder.  _

_This was the life of a criminal, and it fucking broke his heart.  Natasha was not a goddamn criminal...Except she was.  And Steve’s brain was imploding, seeing her duality on display in front of him right now._

_“I mean if we get rid of the body, they won’t find it, so there’s that.  But it will always leave them guessing and suspicious.  I think if we frame it right, we can place his body in Moscow in the car he stole and can make it look like some Russian thugs.  I mean...some poor bastards tried to mug us last night, Clint.  Moscow is covered in wanna be crime lords.  We frame it...Alexi went off on a trail, separate from Rumlow and Rollins.  Which is true.  And then he gets mugged and killed.  What do you think?”_

_Clint was nodding, “We can drive the car he took back, and scrub and torch it on the outskirts.  But if we do this, we gotta move really fast, because we need to beat Rumlow and Rollins back to Ivan and Oksana.  Or at least get back before they get news about Alexi.  And we gotta sell our reaction.  Not surprised and maybe even a little happy.  Our dislike for the asshole has never been hidden.”_

_“Okay, so where were we, Clint?  I got disconnected from you after the alarm in the Palace went off, and we found each other late in the evening, and hunkered down until we got word from Ivan and Oksana.  Like they’d want us to.”_

_“Yeah, good.  That’s good, Tasha.  Best lies?”  Clint asked, smirking._

_“Have an air of truth to them.”   She was grinning in response as if this was the most natural thing in the world...As if Steve wasn’t even there._

_Clint caught Steve’s face and blew out a breath, “Fuck.  Rogers, I kind of forgot you were there.  Don’t mind our shop talk here...It’s uh...It’s kind of just how we work, ya know?”_

_Steve was so conflicted right now.  He felt out of place.  He felt like he wanted to scream and cry because he was still so goddamn angry at Natasha for her vague responses and his unanswered questions.  He wanted to run away with her still, and try to protect her from all of this.  But how she was acting?  It really was like she didn’t want protection, and it scared him.  It scared him because yes it was the first glimpse of her in this life.  But it was also because he still loved her._

_He was scared until she turned around and met his eyes.  And then her muscle memory and walls and resolve all disappeared._

_Natasha’s tough act dissolved, looking at Steve because she hated this too.  She hated all of this, and **always** had.  But her survival instincts had kicked in.  It was how she made it through each day as she fell into the motions with Clint.  She had to, otherwise she would have probably gouged her eyes out, after two days of being back with her handlers when she returned to them three years ago.  _

_Natasha had Clint in this life, and they had to rely on each other.  Steve had given her a chance at something more.  Something warm and good, and she tried to bring Clint with her to that promised land, before the shadows yanked them back to this existence._

_And now?_

_Now, Steve had seen her.  And this was something she **never** wanted him to see.  Because for their five years, she thought she’d never be in this life again.  Back then, she truly believed she’d never be having a conversation about ‘what to do with the body,’ again in her life.  And suddenly, Natasha felt like her brain was going to implode, or that she was going to be sick too. _

_Clint saw it all, “Shit.  Jesus, this is a goddamn mess.”_

_The sun was finally starting to rise as more light came into the room.  How fitting that the light was shining on how fucked up this whole situation was._

_Clint looked back and forth between his sister and Steve.  And man...if he didn’t have a dead body to load into a stolen vehicle and a million other things to do, he might shed a tear for them.  They were hopeless and miserable, but join the fucking club, right?_

_But Clint took another look at his sister, and his heart found a way to weep a little for them._

_Natasha and Steve looked like they were ready to jump off of a cliff.  And he’d come here, knowing there was a strong chance he would have to be the bad guy.  But he wasn’t going to drag her out of here kicking and screaming, so he just nudged._

_“Tasha, I’m going to get this fucker in the trunk of his shitty, stolen car.  Throw me the blanket from the shelf over there.”  Natasha did, and helped Clint lift him.  Clint was holding onto a very dead-weight Russian over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes now.  He went on with a strained voice, “Tash, I’ll get him...situated in the trunk.  Then, I’ll do a quick security check of the perimeter.  We gotta scrub it down, and then we gotta move.  I hate to sound like a dick, but you know me...You have maybe fifteen minutes tops.  Okay?”_

_Natasha flinched at Clint’s words.  She wiped her eyes and looked at her brother, telling him she understood.  No more hemming and hawing.  No more playing.  They needed to go, and she had maybe fifteen minutes to do what she had to do._

_Steve kept staring at the floor where Clint had removed Alexi from.  There was no blood with Natasha’s clean kill.  Almost like it hadn’t even happened.  Steve knew what she was going to try and do.  He heard what they’d said, and he shook his head, not letting her speak, “How can you do this?  How can you choose this life over what we had, Natasha?”_

_“Steve, I don’t...I can’t…”  She blew out a breath to collect herself, “Clint wasn’t exaggerating, Steve.  And you just saw the life and death scenario that we might be facing if he and I don’t get this entire situation with Alexi’s body squared away.  If we don’t return to Ivan and Oksana soon.”_

_Steve couldn’t do this.  He couldn’t look at her now and see what she just did, and mend it with their past life and her choices.  It didn’t make any sense.  He stepped out of the shadows of the living room and walked over to her, now hovering tall over her petite and very dangerous frame.  “Natasha, please.  I know what you’re telling me.  You’re telling me to leave.  But how can I leave without you?  How can I leave without knowing whatever it is you’re not telling me?  Without knowing the truth?”_

_Natasha shut her eyes as Steve put his hands on her shoulders, “Please, Natasha.  You have to say something.  I’m not going to accept the bullshit answer, that this is the life you and Clint chose.  You can put on as big of a sarcastic front as you want, but you and him?  You’re fucking miserable doing shit like this.  I can see it.  I know you, and I can see it hidden in your eyes.”_

_“Steve, I don’t want to fight you, but I can’t...there aren’t answers to your questions right now.”_

_Steve’s fingers lifted her chin to look directly at him, “Not good enough.  Do better.  You want me to go back to the States without you?  You want me to even entertain the idea?  Do better, Natasha.”_

_She didn’t take her eyes off of him.  Yes, Natasha was at a crossroads now.  More pissed than ever, that she had to separate from the love of her life again, and in rapidly approaching time.  She had already started thinking of ways her and Clint could start plotting against Ivan and Oksana._

_But she was at another crossroads right now.  She couldn’t lie to Steve.  She’d meant everything she said to him last night.  God, did she ever love him still.  What she would give to truly run away with him right now.  But they wouldn’t last a month before someone from Russia would find them.  Or before Ivan and Oksana went after Sarah or Bucky or someone else to draw them out._

_No, Natasha couldn’t lie, but she couldn’t tell him the truth, because he would **never** leave her.  He wouldn’t, and he’d do something stupid and get himself hurt or killed.  _

_Somewhere between lie and truth.  Between their past and the future.  Between love and anger.  Between all of it, Natasha found herself at a crossroads right along with him, “Steve, you’re right.  There are things I’m not telling you.  You say you could tell I was lying right?  Well, look at me now.”_

_Steve’s brow creased as he found her hands and looked in her eyes as she went on, “You tell me if I’m lying right now. **I’m not**.  I am being as honest with you as I can, and you are just going to have to trust me...and I know that is hard to ask with everything that’s happened.”_

_“Steve, I meant everything I said last night.  I meant every word in that note, and I still do.  But I also meant that this isn’t our time.  It isn’t.  And you know that.  You saw what just happened, and right now?  Clint and I can’t just pick up and run from this life.  Our choices aren’t like that.  One way or another, we are in our reality, and it’s a place that you don’t belong.  It’s a place that you’re too good for.  I hate that you know and saw any of this.”_

_“Natasha…”_

_But she cut him off, “Steve, please.  There are things I can’t tell you, and I’m sorry for that.  But I can’t.  Not right now at least.  Because there are things I need to do...before I can tell you.  You are not part of this world, Steve.  Think of Wanda, and Bucky, and Sarah. **That** is your world.   You need to go back to it.”_

_Without even thinking, she set her and Steve in a direction they would be pointed in for two years with her next words.  The direction of finding each other again, “Steve, I promise we’ll see each other again.  Not for a while.  But we will.  And I promise you'll get the answers to your questions someday.  But not today.  Today, you have to change your clothes and get into that SUV.  You have to drive back to St. Petersburg and fly home.  You have to go home, Steve.  You **have** to.  Please tell me you know that.”_

_This wasn’t the driving exercise.  This wasn’t the mole mission at Quantico.  This wasn’t like any of their stupid fights while living together.  This was something deep within Steve’s heart that he felt from her words.  He heard the honesty in her voice, and it hit him like a tidal wave as he squeezed her hand._

_Seeing her kill Alexi was the inciting incident._

_And now, hearing her plea and promise in the aftermath?  Steve couldn't explain it, but something shifted.  He was still so angry.  But the desperation in her words, somehow made Steve realize...that if he wasn't going to arrest her because he didn't want to see her hurt in the long run, then he couldn't run or be with her right now either, for those same reasons._

_It was all, just enough to make the domino fall in his brain.  To make him understand that he would have to do something he never could’ve imagined doing._

_Steve heard the trunk outside slam shut, and he blew out a breath, “I...I’m gonna go get my clothes from my vehicle.  Maybe splash some water on my face.”_

_Natasha held back tears as she watched him leave the house.  As she watched him carry his bag back inside and head to the bedroom.  She wanted to scream at the unfairness, but she couldn’t._

_Was Steve going to be able to say anything else to her?_

_She hated every fucking part of this.  But as Steve collected himself in the bathroom, staring in the mirror at himself to find the strength to do the impossible - leave Russia without Natasha...she looked around at the tiny safehouse._

_Clint was back inside and finished cleaning up, returning it to order for the next time either one of them needed it, but Natasha stopped him._

_A crossroads.  A wake-up call.  Having to part ways with Steve had taken the seed that was planted and turned it into a sapling, sprouting with determination right now._

_Natasha looked at her brother with all the seriousness in the world, “Clint, I think it’s time we stopped just following orders and started actually making our own plans.  I’m so sick of this.  I have to watch Steve leave after everything.  I know I have to let him go right now, but I can’t take this anymore.”_

_Clint sighed as she continued, “I am done just following orders, Clint.  I am.  I hate our lives...more than ever.  And I swear to god, I’m going to make them pay for everything they’ve done to you and me.”_

_Clint felt the same way deep down as Natasha.  But more importantly, he’d follow his sister to the ends of the earth, “Let’s get this all covered up and get back, and then we’ll talk okay?  I might know a couple people back in the States that can help us out…”_

_A few minutes later, Natasha was changed too, with her dress balled up and Steve’s clothes in a pile for him.  She kept the purple scarf he’d bought the night before.  Everything was settled with the body in the car, the house cleaned, and Steve ready to go in his jeans and sweatshirt._

_The three of them were awkwardly standing around, waiting to part ways.  “Rogers, you sure leave an impression when you make an entrance.  I’ll give you that.  Sorry it has to be this way.  I’ll...I’ll see you around.”  Clint wouldn’t see Steve for four years, but neither of them knew that right now._

_Clint looked at his sister and shook his head.  This situation was fucked up, and he hated all of it too.  But it turns out Steve showing up in Russia caused dominos to fall for Clint too.  Because as he walked to his car, he was already starting to think about what they could do to hurt Ivan and Oksana’s operation.  He felt a sense of motivation to do something about their crappy life now...more than ever._

_Steve and Natasha were left alone and looked like they were waiting to see who would talk first.  Steve had his backpack at his feet with everything, including his handcuffs and his whole ‘plan’ stuffed inside.  The clock was ticking, and Natasha would have given anything to be able to stop time._

_“Steve…”_

_“Natasha, I can’t…”_

_She shut her eyes, “Yes, you can, Steve.  You are so strong and good.  And you can do this.  I know I don’t deserve any ounce of trust from you.  But you have to find a way to believe me when I say, that we will see each other again, when there is more time.  But you have to go back to your family, and your job, and your home.  You go back and be the man that you are and keep doing good in this world.”_

_He shut his eyes for a second.  Most people might think Steve was insane for finding a way to believe her, but he could tell she meant everything she was saying.  In her own way, Natasha was being as honest with him right now as she possibly could.  He stepped forward, and found a way to trust his heart as he leaned down to press his forehead against hers, “Natasha, I can’t believe I’m about to say this...But if I listen and go back without you, you need to promise me something.”_

_She felt the warmth of his palms against her hands, “Tell me, Steve?”_

_Steve opened his eyes back up to find hers again, “You remember, that the woman I am looking at right now?  The woman I was with last night?  The woman that I was with for five years?  She’s in there.  She’s you, Natasha.  Don’t try and hide behind who this world has tried to force you to be.  It might be part of who you are, but it doesn’t define you.  It’s not all of you.  There’s more of Natasha than Yelena in you.  There always has been.  You remember that.”_

_Tears finally fell down her cheek as she nodded, but he stopped her, “I’m not done yet, Natasha.  There’s one other thing.”_

_She looked at him again and felt her heart clench as she heard his next words._

_“You stay alive, do you hear me?  I don’t know how I believe you, but I do.  I know if we’re going to survive this mess from me coming here, that you and Clint need to do...whatever it is you’re going to do.  And that I need to leave.  But you promise me, you’ll stay alive.  You stay alive because I will find you again.  You promise me that, Nat.  And I promise you somehow, there will be a right time for us again.”_

_She was crying harder now, “I will.  I promise, Steve.  And I meant it.  I meant everything in that note.  I always have and always will.”_

_Steve leaned down, not being able to hold back any longer and found her lips.  It was wrong and so messed up.  The anger and pain and sorrow were all still there.  The confusion and maddening questions were all around.  But so was the very harsh truth that Natasha and Clint were going to be in grave danger.  And he felt guilty for somehow causing this situation to occur._

_Were their life choices his fault?_

_No._

_But everything that happened at the Palace and the aftermath, were ripples because of his denial-filled mission to Russia.  To bring her back with him.  And no matter how much Steve wanted to run with her.  He knew they wouldn’t survive long.  Against all odds, Steve trusted Natasha when she said that they would find each other again someday._

_When it was their time._

_The kiss was tender and gentle and filled with all of their mixed emotions.  But most of all, it was filled with everything in that note.  The unspoken love that couldn’t find its way to their lips.  Yes, Natasha and Steve were at a crossroads, about to head off into the next two years of their life before they’d find their way back to each other._

_Steve pulled away and kissed her forehead as his own tears fell, “I still mean it too, Natasha.”_

_This stolen blip in time had served as a wake-up call.  They both realized any thoughts of moving on from each other were utterly hopeless.  Natasha would still try to encourage Steve to move on from her in the future.  But she knew...there was no one else for her ever, in her life.  Steve found a way to move his feet towards the door and walked to his car.  And he knew too...that he would never be over her, and somehow accepted that he didn’t want to be._

_Yes, this was a wake-up call.  He wasn’t going to arrest her, and the further he got from having her handcuffed to him, the more he realized how asinine the plan was to begin with.  But this whole backwards plan did help him find her.  And Steve already started planning ways that he might find her again down the road.  It would take two years, but another seed had been planted._

_Natasha stepped outside with her bag, locked the house and threw her items in Clint’s car, “You ready, Tasha?”_

_She wasn’t.  She never would be._

_Her heart still felt like it’d been driven over.  Natasha shook her head at her brother as he sighed, knowing what she was about to do._

_Natasha shut the car door, turned around and looked at Steve who was standing by his own drivers’ side, watching her.  He looked like he could crack, and this was going to make it harder, but she didn’t care._

_Natasha ran the 20 feet to Steve and grabbed his face as he held her tight in his arms.  What they would give to be able to run and hide.  But what they wanted and what had to happen couldn’t co-exist right now._

_Steve held her cheek in his hand and looked down at her glassy eyes as he listened to her, “I don’t know if I should say it or not.  But I can’t let you drive off without telling you...I love you, Steve.  I always have and always will.”_

_His words followed right on top of hers, “I love you too, Nat.  I love you…” He couldn’t continue, because her lips crashed into his as he pulled her tight against him with his arm around her waist._

_It was dramatic and passionate and probably made the parting of ways more difficult, but neither one of them cared at all in the moment._

_Their mouths were warm and wanting more as they pressed and pushed and battled against each other.  It wasn’t a goodbye.  It was a kiss, promising they’d stay alive and see each other again.  It was a kiss, displaying everything they’d just said to each other.  It was a kiss that was harder to pull away from, than any one that came before it._

_But somehow, they did.  Seconds passed and Natasha lowered her feet back to the ground, and Steve loosened his hold on her waist.  They pulled away as he held her cheek, and she ran her fingers through his beard, memorizing the feeling for a second longer._

_Heated tears and humid breaths blended together as Steve brushed a final kiss across Natasha's forehead._

_She gave him one final look and turned around to go to the car that Clint and her would drive away in.  It was a wake-up call that was needed at that specific time in their tragic tale.  And it was the one and only time that Steve Rogers willingly let Natasha Romanoff leave his side._

_He got into his SUV, turned it on, and started his long trek back to St. Petersburg.  He started his trip home without her._  

* * *

 **Present Day -** Task-Force Compound

_Natasha opened her eyes, and her body immediately grew stiff.  Panic swelled as saliva formed in her mouth._

_"Steve?"_

_It was pitch black.  She couldn't see a thing as her hands felt around in a frenzy.  The only thing she could feel...was cement.  No.  She wasn't back here.  She couldn't be back here.  But the cold surface surrounded her as she kept shutting her eyes and opening them back up.  Nothing but darkness and concrete._

_"Steve?  Can you hear me?"_

_Natasha stepped forward, feeling along the wall as a sense of dread seeped through her.  Her heart was pounding hard enough, she could feel it in her throat.  She kept moving, sliding her hands along the cool surface as she kept calling out Steve's name.  Still nothing, until a few seconds later she was on the ground.  She had tripped._

_Groaning, Natasha got on her knees and wiped her hands, but stopped immediately.  Her fingers were covered in a warm and slimy substance, and she couldn't stop the tears from forming once she smelled the indistinguishable copper scent.  Blood._

_"No! No, no, no.  Steve, where are you?"_

_Trembling came after her cries, as the darkness faded slightly, revealing the familiarity of moonlight through a barred window.  It was her cell, and she immediately felt sick.  She had tripped over Abraham Erskine’s body.  His bloody and bruised body beneath her.  His blood that her hands and knees were covered in now._

_Natasha shut her eyes tight, but each time she opened, he was right there on the ground.  Frozen in fear, she felt the walls close in on her._

_Panic.  Dread.  Fear._

_All of it consumed every thought and sense until she heard the terrifying rattle at the door.  There was nowhere to go, but she tried anyway.  Natasha ran to the window, as the sound began to smother.  All she could do was scream._

_“Steve!  Help me, please!”_

**_Wake up._ **

_A voice broke through the heavy air around her as she looked back at the door.  It was still rattling, more forcefully now.  Everything she feared was on the other side._

_A snap of the fingers followed, **Wake up, Natasha.**_  

* * *

Her eyes opened wide, and the cell was gone.  

Natasha lifted her head up a little as she glanced around, breathing heavily.  

She was on a loveseat in a small room on the second floor of the warehouse.  The only other items in the room were a chair that Bruce sat in, next to a small table by him with a spinning gyroscope, that someone might use as an office decoration.  It’s what Bruce had used to help hypnotize her.  There were a couple bottles of water, a fan, a lamp, and a chair in the back corner that was empty.   

It was empty because Steve ran over, unable to stay away any longer with how loudly Natasha yelled his name the last time before Bruce told her to wake up.

This was going to be a lot harder than Banner had originally thought. 

  _A lot_. 

Honestly, Bruce didn't know who was having a harder time.  

Natasha was obviously struggling.  She’d lasted 10 minutes under hypnosis, but her breathing escalated quickly.  And it soon became whimpering, and then quickly turned to loud cries and yelling at the end.  And Steve had to sit there, watching and listening...and feeling helpless until he finally reached his breaking point when he ran over to hold her hands.  

That was when Banner brought Natasha out of her trance.

Two weeks into being at the compound, and Natasha had agreed to try this.  And this 10-minute session was the result. 

Steve was whispering in Natasha's ears and holding her hands tight.  His body looked like it could be used as a cutting board with how rigid he was, "Natasha, I'm here.  You're safe with me at the compound.  I'm right here."  Her neck and back were soaked in sweat as she steadied her breathing and squeezed Steve's hands.  "Just breathe, Nat.  I'm right here."

Natasha tried to listen as she watched his every move.  He breathed in and out slowly, and rested a palm on her stomach, "That's good, Nat.  Just watch me and feel my hand.  There you go, I'm right here."  Another minute passed as Bruce wrote some notes down before Natasha finally spoke.  

"I don't remember anything new."  

She sounded more than disappointed, but Steve was holding her hand, "What did you remember, Natasha?"  She told him, sounding even more determined than when she started.

"Bruce, I want to try again."

He and Steve both said at the same time, "Natasha, I don't think…"

"No.  It's my choice. We keep doing it until I can make a breakthrough."  

Steve voiced his concern, "Go over this one more time, Bruce.  I want us both to hear it again."  He was being overprotective but didn't care.  

Banner sighed as he took off his glasses, "86 billion.  Roughly 86 billion neurons are floating in our brains.  And that’s just one of thousands of numbers I could throw out to you.  Natasha...Steve, this is not like flipping through a photo album.  The brain is complex and a world of its own...where a lot of what goes on is unknown still.  Think of it like space.  We've only begun to scratch the surface of understanding what is really out there.  With the brain, it's kind of the same."

"And _with_ the brain, we aren't always remembering exact replicas of what happened...especially in dreams and hypnosis.  Under those circumstances, memories often twist and change according to emotions that are driving the motivations of the dream state."

He sighed again, "I wouldn't have suggested this Steve, if I didn't think Natasha could handle it.  Honestly Natasha, I think you already remember the most traumatizing things that happened to you.  And what you _don't_ remember, is bogged down in the repetition and similarity, of each day running together.  It is very common in prisoners of war.  They can sometimes recall the harsher things versus the down time.  You mentioned darkness and silence and food rations and fighting.  Those things in a perpetual, never ending cycle over 21 months?  No wonder your brain is struggling right now.  Finding something inside of that...is like finding a needle in a haystack."

“Look, the _good_ news is that you were receptive to hypnosis.  That was the first hurdle.  Having Steve here helped, I’m sure.  I can guide and ask questions along the way while you’re under, but it’s more about you exploring and trying to push past barriers while you’re in your trance.”

Steve was looking at Natasha who sat up now and held Steve's hand in her lap, "You said it's not like a photo album, Bruce.  It felt like I didn’t have control over what I was doing in it.  Do you think I need to go beyond that rattling door somehow?"

Bruce looked at her sympathetically, “Natasha, this isn't my area of expertise, but typically doors symbolize a passageway to your past, or confronting something head on like facing a fear, or something you have to deal with in order to move forward.  It could be any number of things from those 21 months.  Or it could be nothing."

Bruce stood up and handed her a bottle of water, "Remember, Natasha...you might be sifting through pain and your memories, both vivid and hidden ones, and it may not work.  Or it may trigger something to help you remember after you wake up.  I wish I could give you a more concrete answer."

"I know Bruce.  You're doing your best.  Is there a way I can stop freaking out so quickly?  I'd like to last longer than 10 minutes."

Steve was sitting next to her now, as close as he could on the love seat and put his arm around her.  

Bruce gave a warm smile, “Let’s revisit this...this afternoon.  I know you want to push yourself.  But this was the first time.  We’ll revisit and try again later.  I’m not taking no for an answer.”

They did try again that afternoon.  And again, the next day and following afternoon...And the day after that.  

Three full days of trying, and Natasha kept screaming, not being able to get past a rattling door, or really see anything different at all.  It was like a mental block was stopping her from fully relaxing or something.  So, three days later, she was in the same spot with Steve at her side in the morning, asking Bruce again about any suggestions that could help her last longer than 10 or 15 minutes. 

Bruce took a breath, "Actually, it may sound unconventional, but I think the two of you are very unique with what you've been through.  Steve and Natasha, you are visibly calmer when you're around one another.  The few times I've conducted hypnotherapy, it's been just me and the individual.  I actually think we should lean into that calming sense you two bring to each other.  Natasha, I want to bring Steve over, so he’s closer to you this time.  I think laying against him might help you relax more.  You’re still going to struggle with whatever is in your head, but it might help you remember that Steve is there on the outside."

Steve wanted to throw the towel in for the day for her.  It’d been three days of watching her cry and scream.  And seeing it again this morning, made him even more worried than each time that'd come before.  But he saw that look in Natasha's eye.  It was the same look that she had when Tony bet her during that stupid mole mission on who the better spy was.  

Steve didn't even try to talk her out of it and just squeezed her hand instead, "I'm right here, Nat."  She took a breath and nodded, “Let's try it again, Bruce.  I don’t care that I just tried.  We need to keep going.”

Steve sat in the corner of the sofa, and Natasha laid down with her head resting against his jeans and with her knees scrunched up as her feet pushed into the opposite end.  

Bruce brought the gyroscope front and center as Natasha turned her head towards it.  "Steve, try your hardest not to move or interact.  She knows you're right there, okay?"  Steve nodded, staring down at her as she squeezed his hand before returning it to her own lap.

Outside, Steve tried his hardest to look strong for her.  Inside, his own 86 billion neurons were sputtering and threatening to short circuit, because he hated every second of this.

"Natasha, _focus_ on the comfort you feel, knowing Steve is there beside you.  _Watch_ the rotations on the table and let your eyes follow the movement.  _Listen_ to the words I am saying. _Focus.  Watch.  Listen."_  

* * *

_Focus.  Watch.  Listen._

_Natasha's face was against a wall.  The cement wall.  She felt around the thin mattress and a scratchy blanket underneath her.  The sound of rain was outside the barred window above, as she saw the moonlight coming inside the cell._

_She rolled over and stared at the ceiling.  Her head was throbbing and she reached down to feel where the source of most of her pain was coming from right now.  Her thigh._

_This was different already._

_The tremors in her hand were strong as she lowered it to graze over her flesh.  Natasha hissed loudly at the slightest touch.  Her thigh.  The cuff.  Her funeral.  Steve._

_"Steve?"  She knew he wouldn't answer her, but she still spoke towards the streaks of moonlight, "Steve, I wish I could put my arms around you.  I wish I could tell you everything is gonna be alright."_

_Natasha’s sweatpants were almost fused to her skin from the puss and fluid leaking out from where she’d been burned, but the pain in her heart still won the battle inside.  "I'm so sorry you had to go through all that today.  And I'm sorry that those who really died will never get a funeral.  For Dr. Erskine and for our…"_

_Natasha's shaky voice turned to silent crying as a sob threatened to escape.  Her words stopped coming out of her as she lay there for a while...until she heard the rattle.  The sound snapped her out of it and she instantly pretended to be asleep._

_"Careful Rollins, she's still feisty when she wants to be."_

_"So, Sitwell is handling all the money for us and doing his job in the State Department?  You sure that asshole can handle the pressure?"_

_Rumlow’s gruff voice answered, "Why don't you voice your concerns to Oksana and see how she handles your questioning, Rollins?  Besides, it's not like Sitwell is the only one.  Poseidon is going to send extra help over here when it's time to pull the trigger with Rogers.  Plus, we got the people at Stark Industries and the Defense Department.  When we pull that string, America won't know what hit em."_

_"What should I do with this gauze and salve?"_

_"Jesus, Rollins.  You scared to get close to her?  Don't worry, she's out cold.  You should have heard her squealing like a banshee earlier with the video and when I flipped that switch on her leg.  Bitch isn't so tough when she's sobbing uncontrollably.  Give me the stuff.  They want her weak, not dead...yet, at least.  Saving that for the right time.  Oksana said to bring this down to her because the doctor said she risks infection from her burn."_

_“When’s the right time gonna be, Rumlow?”_

_“Whenever the Defense Department gives the nod.  The mess in Kazakhstan set us back, so we need to get that money back.  You know how irate they were with Romanoff.  Ivan and Oksana are going to draw out Rogers' and her suffering for as long they can...they deserve it too.  Fucking made their own bed choosing America and each other.  Now they can lie in it.”_

_As soon as Rumlow mentioned Steve, Natasha’s body tensed, which did not go unnoticed by Rumlow, “Well, well.  Rollins, look who’s trying to act like she’s out cold.”_

_Rollins came over and held her feet.  And Rumlow flipped her over on the cot as she cried out in pain, “Did you hear anything interesting, Romanoff?  Let me tell you something.  It wouldn’t matter if you heard everything Poseidon was planning from start to finish.  Because you have no one to tell.  And you’ll have no one to tell **ever** again with what Oksana’s got planned for you.  She might have planned a quicker death for you...if you wouldn’t have gotten yourself knocked up and tried to kill her a few months ago.”_

_Natasha was squirming underneath him, expecting him to punch her.  He didn’t.  He blew out a breath filled with cigarette smoke on her face, “Brought you some gauze and shit, doctor’s orders.”  He tossed it on the ground, and before he left, he went straight to the source of the searing pain in her body...the burn.  His hand went to her thigh, and he didn’t wait a second as he dug his thumb into the oozing red flesh that he scarred, only hours ago.  She screamed out, “Steve,” again and again.  She couldn’t help it.  It was the first and last thing she thought of, and the only thing she could say._

_The throaty cries didn’t end after Rumlow and Rollins left.  They came out with a force until her throat went dry and her voice hoarse, as she turned back toward the wall, murmuring Steve’s name over and over again into the night._

**_Wake up._**  

* * *

Natasha’s body jolted as Steve held her firmly against his leg.  Worry pervaded his every thought as her eyes fluttered open.  More sweat.  And tears had leaked out of her eyes this time.  Her nails were digging into the fabric of the couch.  Steve had somehow managed to keep control and not try to wake her as Bruce guided her through the memory to keep going.  But Banner woke her up because the screaming hadn’t just been in the memory.  She was crying out in a desperate panic repeatedly at the end, when he snapped his fingers. 

Natasha became increasingly frustrated after she told them about the memory.  She thought it wasn’t anything new or useful, but Bruce tried to stay positive. "It's different, Natasha.  _Different_ is better.  It's progress."  She tried to sit up and got lightheaded as Steve’s arms went around her shoulders.  Natasha was about to say she wanted to do it again, but Bruce cut her off.  

“Natasha, your determination is impressive as always, but we need to take a break.  _You_ need to go drink some juice and have some toast or something.  You’ve already done twice as much today as normal, and it’s still early.  Go and work for a few hours, and we’ll talk about maybe trying this again this afternoon.”

Natasha _was_ frustrated.  And impatient.  And tired.  And every other adjective imaginable.  She had a right to be, more so than anyone else.  She went down to the kitchen with Steve.  And just like the past three mornings, it was very clear that a few people heard some of her screams from the worried expressions on their faces.    

Steve squeezed her shoulder one more time, "I'm gonna go check on Fury with everyone in the meeting room."  Natasha tried to smile, but it didn't reach her eyes, "Nat, it's okay.  We'll figure out another way if this doesn't work."

She blew out a breath that couldn’t hide how exhausted she was, emotionally.  Yes, from the fact that it was more draining each time she tried.  But more so, from the fact that she _still_ hadn’t been able to remember, "Yeah.  I know.  Go, Steve.  I'm okay." 

Sarah hid her own concern on her face as she stood in the kitchen and watched Natasha stare at her son as he walked off.  She watched Bruce walk by with his notebook in hand, pinching his nose to join the others in the meeting room.  And then she turned back to Natasha as she brought a cup of coffee over to her.

"It'd be a pity to have that strength you've regained over the last six weeks, collapse with the weight of the world you're putting on your shoulders, Natasha."

Natasha couldn't help it.  The smile she unsuccessfully attempted a minute ago with Steve turned into an actual one.  Sarah Rogers had that calming effect on her, and pretty much everyone else in the compound.  But the smile quickly faded with how she was feeling, "I wish I could say you were exaggerating by saying, ' _the weight of the world,'_ Sarah.  But it's actually true.  It feels like it at least."

Sarah leaned on the counter with her elbows, holding her own cup of caffeine right next to Natasha.  "You know, I remember a time from when Steve was a child.  He and James were always strong willed...I know you’re _shocked_ by that.  Actually, every single person in this warehouse is, in their own way.  It's in all of your DNA.  But...Steve in particular, just like you, my dear, are _particularly_ headstrong when you set your mind to something.  Again, I know you’re _shocked._ "

Sarah nudged Natasha's shoulder as she raised her eyebrow until Natasha relented and nodded in agreement as another smirk appeared.

"But there was this one time that I remember.  It’s silly, but just listen.  James and Steve loved this hot cocoa as little children.  It wasn't anything special.  God, I think it was the cheapest I could buy.  But when their father...was in a particular way before he died, he would end up passed out in the living room or bedroom from drinking.”  

Sarah’s eyes drifted off for a moment, “I was so lost then.  Just trying to hold on and do my best.  But the boys and I had each other.”

Natasha looked over and saw Sarah’s eyes shining as she thought of that time in her life, but she shook it off quickly, “Anyway.  As I was saying, I would make them this cheap hot cocoa and we would sit on the floor of our tiny kitchen, with our chipped and worn mugs.  And each time, it was the best we felt all day because we had each other.”  

Just like everyone at the compound with demons in their past, painful memories didn’t go into hiding without a fight, even for a wise woman like Sarah.  Her voice became softer for a moment again, “I won't even begin to talk about the guilt I dealt with for years and years, and that _still_ shows up...when I think of the scary situations the boys were in with their father, who was sick with his disease and anger.  But I was young and lost and frightened."

Natasha reached over to put her hand over the woman’s, she’d grown to love and adore over the years, "Sarah, you were incredibly brave and raised two wonderful men...Don't ever tell Bucky I said that."  Sarah chuckled as Natasha went on, "And you did the absolute best you could with the hand you were dealt in life."

Sarah had a glint in her eye as she blinked away tears, "Well, I suppose you're right, Natasha.  I think you’re all here together because _you've all_ done the best you could, with the hands you were dealt in life.”  Sarah winked at Natasha and held her hand over her own for a second. 

“But oh, I've gone off track again.  As I was saying, the hot cocoa.  It would calm us and heal, without us even realizing.  And it made us think we would make it through anything together.  It was the boys and my little and cheap tradition.  Well... _long_ after their father was gone...I'm talking years...they were maybe 10 or 11.  James had come home from being picked on at school and had some scrapes on his face.  He was feeling pretty low.  I was at work and the boys were on their own for a couple hours.  Well, Steve was bound and determined to make his brother feel better.  And he wanted to fall back on something from years before.  But we were out of cocoa.  He tore the kitchen apart, top to bottom, looking for the silly powder."

Natasha was charmed by Sarah's warm voice as she listened and drank, "I came home tired, and I was mad at first and made Steve clean everything up.  I came home the next day, and it was the same thing.  And the same thing the day after that...and the day after that.  I sat my little, stubborn Steven down on the fifth day.  It was a Friday when I returned home from work, and he _finally_ told me that he remembered hiding some of the hot cocoa mix from years before during our little tradition.  And he was so upset because all he wanted was to make his brother feel better.  But...he couldn't remember where he hid the cocoa."

Maybe it was stupid.  But Natasha was enamored with Sarah, and always had been.  She could _absolutely_ picture it.  A scrawny Steve Rogers in his pre-teen years, bound and determined as ever to make things right in his own way.  It had always warmed her heart, hearing about Steve as a kid, but this particular instance was so touching.  Probably because Sarah _knew_ what she was doing.  And Sarah knew Natasha was similar as a child in her own way.

"Honestly?  I thought my son was crazy and just mis-remembered.  I pulled James into the kitchen, and the three of us talked.  James swore to Steve, that he was okay.  Steve relaxed a little and we watched a movie late that night until we all fell asleep on the sofa.  I should have known better though, Natasha."

One would've thought they were reading an Agatha Christie novel with how interested Natasha was in Sarah's memory.  

Sarah patted her hand, "It was probably 1 AM.  And I woke up to banging in the kitchen.  I came out, and there was Steve, with a smile on his face like he’d won a gold medal.  He had three mugs on the counter and the same cheap hot cocoa from years and years before in a small canister on the counter.  He told me as soon as he relaxed and fell asleep with us during the movie, it came to him.  He’d hidden the cocoa in a space behind a loose panel in a cupboard."

Natasha chuckled as Sarah finished, "Now, I could probably write a book on lessons we can learn from children.  You grin and smile through stale and old cocoa because your son makes it for you, and somehow it becomes the most delicious thing in the world.  You never give up.  You believe in yourself, even when others are saying you're mis-remembering.  You stand by your loved ones and support them when they're down, because at the end of the day, that's who you have in this life."

Sarah smiled as she put her arm around Natasha and finished, "I could go on and on about all of those lessons, but it's much simpler than all of that, my dear.  You and Steve and everyone here, will find another way if you can't remember. _You will_.  It's how you’re all wired.  But in the meantime, you need to take that weight of the world, off your shoulders and have patience.  Because if there’s one thing my stubborn Steve taught me with that cheap cocoa, is don't count him out or underestimate him.  He has the will and patience of a mule, and what he's waiting for, will relent and reveal itself in the end.  You're the same exact way, Natasha.  It's one of the things I love most about you."

Sarah wrapped her arms around Natasha and gave her one more hug before kissing her head and filling up her coffee again before going to find Laura.  

Natasha didn't know how Sarah did it, but she was feeling better and a little calmer after talking with her.  Natasha looked around.  Most of the task-force was in the meeting room, but she headed over to the dining table where Loki and Wanda were at. 

* * *

"Look, all I'm saying Wanda, is that it's curious that your mother-in-law is going on morning walks with Fury _every_ morning.  There’s something about this warehouse.  I swear, love is in the air."

Wanda groaned, "Loki, I don't want to talk about it.  And I don't want _you_ to talk about it either.  It's weird enough as it is."

Loki formed a devilish grin, "I don't know.  I find it rather refreshing, Wanda.  Sarah and Fury are in their sixties and are still getting after it.  Makes me less depressed about getting old."

Natasha choked on her coffee as she sat down, and Wanda smacked him on the head, "Loki, quit jumping to conclusions.  All we know is they go on morning walks...God, I swear you are more immature than my four-year old son most of the time."  

Loki shrugged as he grinned at Natasha, "Were you getting Sarah's daily words of wisdom in the kitchen?  That woman could seriously make a killing with dishing out life advice."

Natasha raised her eyebrow at him, "Loki, what kind of life advice is Sarah Rogers giving you?" 

He scoffed, faking being offended, "I'll have you know, that woman and I have a lot in common.  We both are incredibly observant.  We both think her sons are _incredibly_ handsome.  And we both think you are putting way too much pressure on yourself, Natasha.  We'll figure out a different way if you can't remember.  You _need_ to know that."

Wanda rolled her eyes again at Loki, "You're just sucking up to Natasha because I smacked you, and because I don't react to your comments about my handsome husband anymore.  Natasha, Sarah _also_ told him that he needed to quit sowing his wild oats and needed to find a space to plant some roots, finally.  I'm not even going to _begin_ to dissect those innuendos."

Natasha couldn't help it.  She was grinning ear-to-ear as Loki came back, "Exactly.  _Thank you_ , Wanda.  A baby boomer who's talking to me about sowing oats?  Now _that_ is a woman who's getting some.  Speaking of getting some, Natasha...Love is _definitely_ in the air here.  You and Rogers seem to be cozy with all your glances and hand holding.  Laura's even found a way to make that brother of yours smile.  And I would put money on the fact, that I caught Sam and Maria flirting again."

Wanda shook her head, "Oh whatever, Loki.  Their whole, ‘ _Will they, won't they’_ tune has played out so many times, that I think there are scratches on the record.  Sam and Maria flirt.  They _always_ flirt, but they've never taken the chance."

Natasha stared at their quipping contest a little wide eyed, "We're the two of you actually working today...or were you just gossiping like you have a daytime talk show?" 

They laughed at Natasha's words.  Regardless of how scary the outside world was right now, these little moments were wonderful.  Each passing day, Natasha was coming back to them a little more.  And it felt like they had their friend back as Loki grinned, "Now _that_ is a great idea, Natasha.  I've already told Stark that if he would just install cameras in here, we could sell the footage and make a killing because MTV would buy it.  Imagine... _The Real World: FBI."_

Natasha avoided that deep dive into nothingness, "So, what are the two of you working on exactly?" 

Wanda turned her computer screen towards her, "Well, Fury is paranoid about us making any sort of contact on networks with people, outside of Morse Code.  But...Loki had an idea…"

"Loki had a _great idea,"_ he added in the third person as Wanda smirked and went on, "Loki...had an idea.  There are some criminals that he's worked with over the years that would be equally motivated to stop Poseidon for different reasons, but still at this point, help is help.  So, we’re throwing a few feelers out in code via the Dark Web to see if anyone bites."

Natasha’s brow lifted as Loki added, "Don't look shocked, Romanoff.  Fury is already working with you, me and Barton.  He had Clint's misfit crew of mercenaries working with Steve and Bucky and Tony two and a half weeks ago when the FBI was attacked.  Give the old man credit.  He’s a lot looser than he looks…Or maybe I should give credit to Sarah."

"Ouch...Hey!" 

Wanda had smacked him harder over the head, "So anyway, Poseidon is bad for business if you’re one of the less ruthless criminals in the states.  More drugs are coming in from overseas.  Stark Industries is wiping out weapons sales on the black market.  It's leaving a lot of the criminals Loki used to deal with restless, I guess."

Natasha took another drink, "That makes sense.  So, you're what?  Putting out a want ad on the dark web to see if any... _old acquaintances_ know anything, Loki?"

He shrugged his shoulders, "Single White Male: Criminals Wanted...Or something like that.  The coding is just a little _more_ complex than that.”  Loki winked at Natasha as he went on, “But in the meantime, we have some new algorithms that will hopefully find more data patterns...or at the very least, maybe we can get a hit on our CCTV monitoring of Sitwell or Rumlow or somebody..."

Peter had been in the living room coloring and came running over.  He barreled right in between the ladies as he hopped up on Natasha's lap.  "Oof.  What do you have there, Peter?"

Natasha placed her hand on his back as he looked at his mom and she encouraged him to give her what he'd been working on.  "I drew a picture for you, Nat.  Just like Uncle Steve draws."

Natasha peeked over his shoulder, "You did?  Can I see it?"

Peter nodded, but paused, "It's okay, Nat."  

Natasha looked a little confused, “What's okay, Peter?"  

Peter leaned up to her ear to act like he was whispering, but was still loud enough that Loki and Wanda could hear, "It's okay.  I have bad dreams too.  And so does Uncle Steve.  And so does Mom and Dad.  That's why you yell a lot...You had a bad dream?"  Peter must have heard her a couple of times during her sessions with Bruce and Steve.

Natasha felt a little embarrassed at first as she dipped her head, but Wanda smiled warmly at her friend, “I just told him the truth because he’s been worried about you this week, Natasha.  I told him that we _all_ have bad dreams sometimes.  And right now, you're having them too."

Peter tapped on Natasha's shoulder and showed her what he was holding in his other hand - his drawing.  Natasha took it and looked at it.  For a four-year old's work, it was pretty good.  There was a big red building, that Natasha figured had to be the warehouse.  In front, were stick figures with names underneath in Wanda’s handwriting.  

Sarah, Bucky, Wanda and Peter were together holding hands.  And on the other side of Peter, was Natasha, with red crayon swirls distinguishing her hair and all.  Her little stick arm overlapped with his, showing that they were holding hands too.  Steve was right by her, holding her other stick hand.  And then, _everyone_ else was all over the paper.  On the roof.  In a window.  On the side of the building.  All with their names in Wanda's writing right by them.  

 _One big happy stick figure family_ , from Peter's perspective at least.

Loki craned his neck to look over their shoulders, "Nice drawing kid.  Where am I?"

Wanda had a devilish grin on her face, "Oh...you're in it, Loki."  Peter was snickering into Natasha’s shoulder as she counted the people, but like Loki, she couldn't see him.  Loki looked at Peter and then narrowed his eyes at the drawing, "Wanda, please tell me your child did _not_ draw me as the black cat next to your husband's leg."

Natasha couldn't help it.  She burst out laughing and Peter did too as Wanda shrugged her shoulders through her own fit of giggles at his expense, “Sorry Loki, Peter told me a couple nights ago that you remind him of a cat.  The seed was planted, and it grew from there.”

Loki walked off towards the meeting room, muttering, “If anyone’s the task-force pet, it’s Thor.  Stupid oaf can’t string together a normal sounding sentence if his life depended on it.”

Natasha hugged Peter tight, “Thank you, Peter.  I’m going to hang it up in my room.  I bet it helps me sleep at night.”  He ran off back to the living room, clueless at how such an innocent act of drawing a picture, could lighten her morning.  Between Steve, her friends, Sarah, and Peter, Natasha had almost forgotten about the looming thoughts and that weight on her shoulders.  

Almost. 

The relief didn’t last though, because the biggest wake-up call yet, pulled her back to reality as the radio in the kitchen caused both women’s ears to perk.   

* * *

**News Report:**

CE:  I’m Christine Everhart with Marvel’s 616 Live Broadcast.  This just in.  We have breaking news at this hour.  

We’ve just received word that the U.S. Consulate in Sydney, Australia and the U.S. Embassy in Stockholm, Sweden have come under attack.  Reports are still flooding in, and the information is very new, but we’ve heard from credible sources, that there is fire and smoke billowing from both physical locations.  And multiple Americans are being reported dead.

Rumors are swirling around about a growing terrorist threat from overseas.  It has the internet buzzing because it increasingly looks like these coordinated acts of violence are linked with the attack at the FBI in New York City, only a little over two weeks ago. 

It’s too coincidental that now three American Agencies have come under fire within weeks of each other.  We hoped that the FBI attack was the end, but now we fear it was only the beginning.  And worse, it wasn’t isolated to America.  Two of our most peaceful allies have now been subject to cruelty and brutal attacks on foreign soil, for reasons unknown.  

President Ellis assured America in his last address that those found responsible, would be brought to justice.  We have to ask, how long will it take for justice to be served?

We will keep you informed as details keep pouring in.  This is Christine Everhart with Marvel’s 616 Live Broadcast, signing off for now.  We are your eyes and ears when you can’t be.  And we will keep you abreast throughout the day and evening as this story continues to unfold. 

* * *

It was a _hell_ of a wake-up call.  

So much for feeling relieved, and getting her mind off of what she couldn’t remember.  Natasha stood up, and Wanda followed, “Natasha, you’re not responsible for their actions, and have to stop shouldering the blame for everything Poseidon does.”

Natasha’s body tensed as she shook her head, “I’ll stop feeling blame when I take out Ivan and Oksana.  When we all find a way to stop Poseidon as a whole.  Whatever is inside me, I _have_ to find a way to remember.  I don’t care if Bruce has to physically dig it out of me.”

Wanda sighed as she watched Natasha walk quickly into the meeting room, demanding Bruce get upstairs to continue the hypnotherapy.  Bruce did as she asked, and Steve followed after both of them, looking more worried than when he’d come downstairs before.  

“Natasha.”

“No Bruce, you push me and keep me going, no matter how much I’m screaming.  You keep asking me to keep going while I’m out of it.  I don’t care what I’m saying or doing.  You _keep_ pushing me.”

She turned to look at Steve, and he knew better than to argue with her right now.  Instead he just said, “If you start trying to hurt yourself, we’re waking you up.  I’m not compromising on that, Natasha.”

The way he was looking at her...she wanted to just collapse in his arms, but she had to do this, “Okay, fine...I just want whatever is inside me, Steve.  If it’ll help take these assholes down, we need it.  We _need_ it because people keep dying because of Poseidon.  They’re sending a message with these last two attacks.”

Her voice started tightening, and Steve pulled her into his arms as Bruce spun the gyroscope on the small table.  Steve and Natasha got situated as she took a deep breath and stared at the circular motions.  

Focus.  Watch.  Listen.

_“No.  Steve, please help.”_

_Natasha landed with a thud on the cement ground as she held her stomach tight.  She was back at the beginning.  Back to her first memory in the cell.  She was cold and bleeding and bruised, lying flat against the concrete.  The moonlight filtered through the bars and pierced her eyes as she shouted out in pain._

_She pressed into her stomach and cried, knowing what was gone, “Steve?”_

_Somehow, this felt a little different.  Deep down, there was some part of her that knew this wasn’t quite a nightmare, and it definitely wasn’t reality.  But it still felt real.  She heard the door rattling, but knew what was going to happen before it did.  Because unfortunately, she remembered this part of her captivity._

_Oksana was here.  And all Natasha could think was how she could get those seconds back and finish the job this time.  A flurry.  A flash.  And a few seconds later, Natasha had Oksana pinned to the ground again, squeezing tight against her throat._

_Focus.  Watch.  Listen._

_Somehow, Bruce’s words were repeating in her brain as she was squeezing Oksana’s throat.  She did listen.  She listened to the diminishing breathing of the woman in her grasp.  But she also listened outside the door as she heard Ivan, “Rumlow!  Hand Erskine to me, now!  The Secretary is not going to be happy if this goes wrong before it’s even started.  We are on thin ice already.”_

_‘Secretary.’_

_Before Natasha could hear anything more, another flurry...and Erskine was before her.  She was screaming at Ivan, begging him not to do this.  But then Rumlow shot his gun twice, and Erskine was on the ground, dying in her arms again.  “No.  No!  Don’t leave me.”  Natasha sobbed and cried as the memory continued to play out.  But she heard a voice echo inside her head._

_Focus.  Watch.  Listen._

_It was like Natasha was staying where she was, but the room started spinning around her.  She saw blurs of images whirling all around.  Her working out.  Fighting Rumlow.  Her trying to dig at the cement walls with no success.  Her crying to the moon at night and screaming for Steve in her nightmares.  Her funeral and Steve breaking down on the monitor.  It was like she was fast forwarding through her time in the cell, watching her body get thinner, her resolve get weaker, and the people who held her captive, become more cruel.  And the entire time, Erskine’s body was on the floor._

_Honestly, she wondered if Bruce gave her a drop of acid in some water or something._

_Wait...Bruce.  Steve.  Hypnosis._

_She was remembering what she was doing.  She was somehow gaining consciousness in her state of mind.  That was good right?_

_Mess with reality.  And it pushes back._

_If Natasha was going to alter the state of her mind in her memories, her memories could do the same thing.  Because at the core, what she was dealing with, was **fear**.  And fear wasn’t tangible, especially in the hypnotic dream state she was in.  Fear could change right along with her consciousness.    _

_“No.”  This time it wasn’t a cry in desperation.  This time it was a statement.  “No.  Steve, I know your waiting for me.  I’m okay.  I’m okay.”  Natasha calmed her nerves and mind, repeating that Steve was waiting for her, and she stopped focusing on Erskine’s body._

_More fast forwarding.  More time in darkness, and the room was spinning like the gyroscope on Bruce’s table.  Her body grew dangerously thin and her hair longer.  More time passed as the already dim moonlight faded from the room._

_“It’s okay.  It’s okay.  Focus, Natasha.  Just breathe.  Steve is waiting for you.”_

_“No, he’s not.”_

_A chill ran down her spine as Natasha panicked.  Her eyes welled up with tears.  It was Rumlow’s voice.  Natasha was on the cot...but now she was looking at herself._

_Mess with reality, and it pushes back._

_Natasha stared at herself, but her dream state was in her clothes that she’d laid against Steve in.  Jeans and a sweatshirt.  Standing in the cell.  And she turned around, and Rumlow was only a few feet away from her.  He was staring right at her present form, “You think your perfect soldier will ever want to be with the damaged spy again?  Not after I’m through with you.”_

_This wasn’t right.  This didn’t happen._

_But somehow, it **was** happening.  It was fear morphing memories and reality, twisting them all around as terror infected her.  Natasha tried to get away from him, but tripped over the cot and fell onto the ground.  There was Erskine’s body again, as she lay in his blood.  She couldn’t get away from what was holding onto her, “No!  Steve!”  _

_Natasha had no idea what to do now.  This wasn’t what she remembered.  This was something completely different, and all she wanted to do was wake up._

**_No_ ** _.  Focus.  That was Bruce’s voice, telling her to focus._

_Natasha shut her eyes tight as she heard the rattling of the door.  Rumlow’s boot barely missed her face as she rolled out of the way.  She crawled over Erskine’s body, knowing there was some hidden metaphor there for getting passed this wretched memory in her mind.  She reached the door and yanked and pulled and tugged until it finally burst open and ran._

_Running._

_Running through her mind and time in the dark.  She ran away from that cell and Rumlow into nothing.  It was a void.  She heard Rumlow laughing as another frightening voice followed her, “You can’t get away from me.  I’m already inside you because you created me, Yelena.”_

_Oksana._

_What Natasha didn’t realize, was how much she was thrashing and yelling and screaming in the very real world as Steve held her down.  How he looked to Bruce for guidance, sick with distress.  And how Bruce told her to keep moving through the darkness._

_Running faster and faster, as pressure built in her lungs, Natasha saw other agonizing images, but didn’t stop.  She couldn’t stop...otherwise she would collapse and wake up.  Somehow, she knew she had to keep going.  So, she ran past an image of Steve at the cabin as she said goodbye.  Steve in Russia as they both parted ways.  Clint as she refused to tell him what happened to her.  Some of her most painful memories in her life, attempting to draw her in and distract her.  But she kept running._

_She didn’t know what she was running toward, but she knew she had to keep going._

_A streetlamp finally appeared, piercing through the edge of darkness, and she ran faster as the laughing and voices got louder, “You think you want to know?”_

_Natasha turned her head for a second and screamed as Rumlow’s face was right there.  She shut her eyes and opened them back up as Alexi and Rollins joined him on one side, and Ivan and Oksana were on the other.  She turned away, but they started reaching and grabbing for her, like she was in some horror movie, made up of all of her memories.  Like she was trying to make it through the River Styx of her mind._

_Focus._

_She dug in and ran faster, like she’d been running all her life.  Natasha was running for her family and friends and to get back to Steve.  Suddenly, she was at the front door of a house underneath that streetlamp.  Instead of hearing a rattling door, she was the one rattling it...but she didn’t recognize the house.  What she did recognize, was the name on the outside of it on the mailbox._

_Rogers._

_Natasha went inside, and froze immediately as the horrifying images had caught up to her.  The ghosts in her memories followed her inside too, as Rumlow and Oksana taunted her.  But Natasha walked away from them.  She was able to walk away because they weren’t what she was most afraid of anymore..._

_The Rogers house.  But this wasn’t Sarah’s house.  She knew Sarah’s house in Brooklyn...well._

_It was like she’d swallowed poison, with how the fear crept through her body as she took everything in.  Because everything around her, unsettled her and hurt.  Natasha took in false images **everywhere** of wedding photos and honeymoon pictures...and drawings.  Of dishes in the sink, and a newspaper at the counter.  Of men’s and women’s shoes by the door.  Of a dog that came running down the hallway.  And of a baby gate that closed off the upstairs.  Before she knew it, Natasha heard her own voice off to the room at the side._

_“No.  This isn’t real.”_

_Natasha **knew** this was a distraction.  It was fear’s tightest hold on her as it kept trying to draw her in.  But she couldn’t help it.  As afraid as she was, the site before her was like an enchantment.  And she was pulled in by the allure of it all.  The smell.  The pictures.  The sound of the TV on softly in the background with a ball game on.  She walked into the living area, and there she was.  _

_Natasha was staring at herself, standing and bouncing softly on her feet, holding onto a baby that was old enough to crawl.  She couldn't tell the gender of the child sleeping in her arms.  But it didn't matter.  What mattered was that it was Natasha as a mother, and she looked almost ethereal.  It was a picture of peace and happiness.  And it was intoxicating as her eyes froze on the image in front of her._

_The entirety of the scene made her drunk with a dream that was long gone._

_Natasha was whispering sweet nothings to the sleeping baby, as the dog came and laid down at her feet._

_“Nat?  I’m home.”  Natasha's dream state looked back to the door where she'd entered into the unknown house, and now she saw the white picket fence outside.  She made a connection.  It was her dream as a child...what she saw on TV and all around her in America, that starkly contrasted her horrifying upbringing.  That dream was somehow blending with her false reality now, as she watched Steve...her beautiful and wonderful Steve.  She watched him come inside, take his shoes off, and scratch the dog's ears, who’d run over to greet him.  He had a wedding ring on, “Hey buddy, where are they at, huh?”_

_She watched Steve walk right through her dream state and into the living room as Oksana whispered in her ear, “Stupid child.  Don’t you know, you’ll never be free?  Look in there and see what you’ve caused.”_

_Natasha moved back to the room from where she just came and saw Steve.  But he was frozen in panic at a very different picture in front of her now.  He was terrified as he took in Natasha’s image.  She had blood on her hands, and the baby was gone, “Nat?  What happened?  Where’s the baby?  What did you do?”_

_“No.  No.  No!”  Natasha pressed into her stomach and felt the pain that was there when she first woke in the cell.  Steve stopped looking at the image before him now.  He turned...and was staring directly at her, “What did you do?”  He was now covered in blood too and collapsed before her._

_Everything happened so fast._

_The house quickly dissolved, and Natasha was back in the dark cell again.  She couldn’t help it as fear took hold, “No!  No, Steve.  Please don’t leave me.  Please.  Where are you?”  Natasha was shaking with violent tears, feeling paralyzed as she cowered in the corner on her cot._

_And on the outside, Steve was struggling to hold her down, crying and begging Bruce to hurry, otherwise they were going to have to pull her out of it._

_Natasha had fast forwarded through her worst memories from her captivity.  She had revisited the torture and the beatings, the loss, and the funeral.  She dove into her worst fears and her dream, with it dissolving before her very eyes.  All while enduring the taunting voices that chased her the entire time._

_And now she was right back where she started.  Only her present self was gone.  She wasn't staring at herself anymore because there was only one Natasha again.  And she was back in the cell, reliving the torture firsthand.  She was beyond weak and thin.  So sickly thin, that she could barely move._

_Another flash of consciousness.  She remembered.  It was the end._

_The door rattled again, and Rumlow and Rollins came inside, talking about the Russians taking her to the cabin soon.  She fought against them.  First, they hurt her shoulder and then injured her ribs and lung, as they kicked and beat her to unconsciousness._

_Except, she wasn’t unconscious...not completely._

_Focus.  Watch.  Listen._

_They were carrying her out of the room, away from the darkness, and away from her captivity as she kept trying to listen._

_“Rollins, hold onto her.  We gotta deliver her in one piece.  You know Ivan and Oksana have a lot riding on this with the Secretary.”_

_“I don’t understand why they have to listen to that fucking asshole.  He’s the Secretary of Defense.  He doesn’t run Poseidon.”_

_“Rollins, you fucking moron.  Secretary Pierce could have Ivan and Oksana and all of us killed within seconds if he wanted to.  He handles the defense contracts for America.  Which means, while supplying the entire U.S. Military with weapons from Stark Industries, he manages to hide the fact that he’s supplying Poseidon too.  He knows everything about every branch of military here.  He’s a big fucking deal.”_

_“So what?  Ivan still runs this part of the country.”_

_“You’re a fucking idiot, and you’re gonna get shot if anyone hears you say that, Rollins.  Seriously, Pierce knows more than Ivan and Oksana.  He knows everything.  The plan of attack.  Where in the world it was going to happen.  When.  How. **Everything.** And it’s all in his fucking house in the countryside, right outside of New York.”_

_Timing for once, was working in Natasha’s favor, if you could call it that._

**_Wake up._**  

* * *

Natasha shot up like she was struck by lightning, panting heavily with wide eyes.  She was absolutely covered in sweat as Steve caressed her face from behind and held her, “Nat, it’s okay.  I have you.  You’re here with me and safe.”  But she was wild with her fresh memories.  She stood up and steadied herself quickly against the end of the sofa as Steve tried to hold her.  But she ran out of the room as she yelled at them to get down to the meeting room right away.

Literally 30 seconds later, she was chugging a bottle of water in front of everyone in the meeting room with Wanda, Bruce, and Steve joining.  Steve was beyond worried, and Natasha was trying to catch her breath as she tucked her hair behind her ears.  

“I can’t explain everything that just happened because it was like a roller coaster through a horrifying nightmare.  But it was _so_ _real_.  And I don’t have any proof with what I’m about to say, but just know...that nagging feeling in my head over the last couple of weeks?  It’s the first relief I’ve had, because I remember what Rollins and Rumlow were talking about as they carried me out, to take me to the cabin that Steve found me in.”

“Nat, slow down,” Steve whispered.

But she didn’t.  

“There was this house in my dream.  And I kept thinking that the light from the moon in my cell, kept piercing my eyes.  And it was like my memory was taunting me the entire time.  The house.  Piercing.  Pierce.  I thought it was about the house I wanted with you, Steve.  And the baby.  And then I thought it was about the pain and torture, and 21 months, and Erskine, and everything I lost.  And.  And.  And, right?  But I had to get past all that.  It was like I had to run and push past _everything_ , to finally see what was mocking me all along.”

Everyone waited with bated breaths, but no one dared to say anything as she went a mile a minute.  Natasha looked around and looked baffled, that no one had caught on.  “The person we've been looking for in the States.  It’s the Secretary of Defense.  It’s Alexander Pierce, yours and Ross’s old war buddy, Fury.  And he knows _everything_ and has intel at his home in the countryside, outside of New York City.” 

* * *

It’d been a long day.  It’d been a long several days, mentally and emotionally.  Steve struggled, watching Natasha wade through Bruce’s process.  It was messy and not necessarily clinical.  And the three of them weren't sure if the hypnotherapy actually connected her memories in a way, or if it was Natasha forcing herself through the ringer for three full days essentially, until something cracked.

But Natasha was high as a kite with relief because something had cracked, and she remembered what Rumlow and Rollins said at the end.  That Alexander Pierce, the Secretary of Defense, was actually working with Poseidon and had been a deep cover operative for decades.  He was at the helm of the American operations, but had so many ties worldwide.  

The Secretary of Defense position, unfortunately, was a perfect cover.  He already had military tie ins, and extensive knowledge that could leave each military academy and base vulnerable, as Natasha predicted.  He oversaw the negotiated defense contracts.  All with Stark Industries leading the way, and the Lemurian Star funneling the funds, which Sitwell had coordinated. 

The deceptive pieces were falling into place.  Sitwell had been the deep cover under Secretary Ross.  On paper, anyone would’ve guessed Ross was the mole, with how big of an asshole he could be.  But in reality, Ross was just that.  An asshole to his core, who’d risen to the highest of ranks.  Ironically, he wasn’t very diplomatic, and had found himself in the position of highest diplomacy worldwide.  But his error, was letting Sitwell rise with him.  

Sitwell was the #2 for him, but was _really_ the #2 for Secretary Pierce the entire time.  Leaking and coordinating, and plotting, all through Poseidon’s methods in hopes to return Russia to the leading world power.  

All that was left for the task-force at this point, was to figure out the when, where, and how, Poseidon was going to attack.  And according to Natasha’s memories, that information was under lock and key at Alexander Pierce’s wealthy estate home, just outside of New York City.    

Time was ticking away, and with the attacks in Sweden and Australia, the pressure was that much higher.  

Fury was _livid_...and hurt...and felt betrayed once again.  Pierce, Ross, and Fury all went back.  _Way back_ , all the way to Vietnam.  But as the dots connected, Fury pushed the feelings he’d need to deal with later, away.  He needed to focus for his team and country right now.  

Fury pulled the thread as soon as Natasha was finished revealing her memory, and had contacted his moles in the D.O.D.  He somehow knew in his gut, that this was all true.  And he had to get his people out now.

“The good news...is that we don’t have to sneak into the Pentagon.”  Rhodey made the observation to the group before Maria countered, “No, we just have to break into the Secretary of Defense’s mansion, recover files from god knows where inside, and then figure out how we’re going to stop Poseidon from enacting those plans.  Yes, good news all around.”

Fury sighed as his insides were in knots, “Look, I know this seems like an uphill battle, but it always does in the middle.  And I agree with Rhodes.  It is good news that the intel isn’t at the Pentagon.  That’s a barrier, I just don’t think we could get past on our own right now.  This should be a grab and go mission.  Take out a few security guards.  Possibly even when Pierce isn’t there.  We sneak in, grab the intel, and go.  It may not be the best news, but good news comparatively.  Barton, Rogers, Romanoff...Contact your team of mercenaries.  We’re going to need the help.  All of them, along with us, and my people in the D.O.D. should be able to complete this mission.”

Tony groaned, “I hate to ask the obvious here.  But I will.  Natasha, I believe you.  I do.  But how do we know that plans haven’t changed and that Pierce still has the files at his house?  How do we know that Natasha and Steve escaping the cabin six weeks ago, didn’t send Poseidon into a tailspin, changing their plans?”

“Tony,” Natasha started, “I was nearly dead.  I don’t know how I was even able to take in that conversation, but I did.  And they had _no idea_ that I did.  And most importantly, Ivan and Oksana are on thin ice with Russia.  Their methods are to separate and disseminate information yes.  But, they’ve also always had the number one goal to return to their promised land…Mother Russia.”

She took a quick breath, “And since they had a screw up at the cabin with me, they would be on their last leg with the powers that be, which includes Alexander Pierce and this man Zemo who is here from Russia.  I can promise you, that Ivan and Oksana are looking out for themselves right now."

Clint nodded and added, "The last thing they would do, would be to raise a concern in the last month and a half, after Steve and Tasha survived.  They wouldn’t suspect she overheard anything, and if they did, they _still_ wouldn’t say anything.  It would sign their death certificate for sure.”

It was as good of a reason as any, and right now they had nothing else to go on except faith and trust in each other. 

Steve and Clint were obviously convinced, but more importantly, others were too.  Bucky and Wanda stood up, followed by Loki and Sam, then Maria and Thor, and Bruce and Rhodey.  Then finally Tony looked over at Fury, “Well look at that, Nick.  All of us with our wit and will and teamwork, finally came to a consensus I guess.”

They worked the rest of the day and evening, and the plan was set for tomorrow.  They didn’t have time to wait.  

* * *

It was late and they were back in their bedroom, and she hardly even waited for Steve to shut the door before her lips were on his.  Steve was so impressed with her earlier, but he was _extremely_ worried that she was trying to put the cart before the horse here, “Natasha.”

She kept kissing him, nudging him towards the bed until the back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress.  She pushed them both down onto the comforter, “Natasha.”  Steve’s voice was a little more hesitant for obvious reasons. 

It’d been over two years for both of them, but this didn’t feel right.  

Natasha was _not_ on the same page as Steve though.  She crawled onto the bed, pinning his waist between her thighs, and stared down at him with a desperation in her eyes.  But it wasn’t right.  

It was like she was trying to force this right now because she was worried about tomorrow.  It was like she was convincing herself because she’d finally remembered...and remembered _big,_ causing the mission to roll out tomorrow, that this somehow _had_ to happen. 

They’d been building to this for over two weeks now.  With increased looks and blushes, kisses and touches, and thoughts that made the crimson in their cheeks spread all over their bodies. 

Natasha pressed down onto Steve, and it felt good.  _Really good._ But it didn’t feel like them.  

Hell, three mornings ago in the gym felt more like them than this did.  And the only other time Steve could remember feeling anything like this was in Russia.  Right when they’d gotten to the safehouse.  When they fucked without talking, outside against the truck.  

Both of them swore internally, that it would never happen like that again... _ever._   It was small, but it was true.  And right now?  It didn’t feel like them, no matter how much Steve wanted her.  Natasha seemed off right now from what she’d put herself through mentally over the last three days. 

_“Natasha, stop.”_

Natasha lifted her mouth from his neck and looked at him with wide and questioning eyes.  She stopped moving her hips as his hands settled on her waist, “Don’t you think we’ve waited long enough, Steve?”

Steve groaned as he found her eyes again, “I do, but waiting a little longer until I know we’re both okay is worth it, Nat.  I don’t want this to be, because you think we’re up against a clock and feeling pressure.  We’ve reconnected and love each other.  We’ll be okay until the time is right.”

She shut her eyes and bit her lip, knowing that he was right.  She couldn’t even put what she was feeling into words, but she tried, “I just.  I feel like my brain is on fire right now with what I remembered today.  I just want to take everyone down that’s hurt us.  And I feel like what we’re doing tomorrow...is actually going to help.”

“It’s the start of it, Natasha. _It is._   But we have to keep our heads above water.  I love you, and I don’t want you to regret anything between us... _ever_."

Steve paused for a second before continuing, "Natasha, I don’t think you should come tomorrow.  I think you should stay back here.”

Well if logic and reason weren't going to shoot a hole in this bucket of passion, then _that_ certainly did.  Natasha flexed her thighs out of anger as her body stiffened, “You aren’t being serious, are you Steve?"

Steve took a breath and moved his hands down to her thighs.  Maybe the timing was regrettable, but his words weren't, “I’m being serious.  I don’t think it’s the right move.”

She crawled off of him and sat on her knees on the bed, “ _The right move._ But you think it’s the right move to bring Clint and the mercenaries into the field.  You think it’s right to bring everyone on the mission tomorrow, except for the person that deserves to see Poseidon burn more than anyone.”

This was exactly why it didn’t feel right before.  

Steve was sick with worry, and Natasha was combustible with energy from the events of the day.  Their reconnection would’ve served more as a distraction than anything else tonight because their hearts weren’t in it.  It wouldn’t have been right for their first time back together to be...a distraction.

Steve let out a sigh as he sat up on his elbows, “Natasha, you do deserve it.  I know you do.  But you’ve been through a lot in the last couple of days...”  

Combustible was right.  And she had _every_ right to be.  

Natasha narrowed her eyes at him, “Fuck that, Rogers.  Don’t treat me like I’m some fragile piece of glass.  I was picked apart and tortured for almost two years by them.  And it’s really been going on my whole life.  I can't sit around here when I could be helping, Steve.  I don't just want to watch them burn.  I want to be the one to light the match.”

Steve blew out a breath and crawled over to her to sit on his own knees right in front of her, “Natasha, it’s not that.  I want that for you too.  I do.  I just...You tell me you’re not some fragile piece of glass.  You're not...but you _were_.  You were _so fragile_ when I found you.  You were so light that I was scared you’d break in two if I dropped you.”

Steve’s voice was breaking, and it cut through all the noise inside Natasha.  She looked at him kneeling in front of her.  Steve looked like _he_ was the one that could actually break.  

Tomorrow would be the first time in over six weeks, Steve wouldn’t be able to control the variables regarding Natasha’s safety.  He was suddenly supposed to be okay with her putting herself in danger again...after everything.  But more than that, it was the first time in over _seven years_ that they would be in the field together again.  

Sure, there was their espionage filled night in Russia, but _that wasn’t this_.  

Steve wasn’t just afraid.  He was scared to death, and felt like he could combust with everything going on inside his own head right now.  They’d found a way to escape the depths of hell and had saved each other...emotionally, physically, and in every other way imaginable.   

But out there?  Outside the compound walls, they knew all too well that things happen that they couldn't control.  

“Natasha, I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you.  I scraped myself together somehow over the last seven years, into the shell of a man that I was before I found you.  You’ve helped me heal...and feel my heart again.  But if something happened to you, I couldn’t…”

Steve _couldn’t_ finish his words because he was trembling as thoughts unraveled in his head. 

The day was stripped away, and it left the two of them alone with each other.  Somehow, it was what was needed for Natasha to calm and ground herself.  Natasha had confronted some of her worst fears over the last few days under hypnosis.  Steve was confronting one of his biggest fears now.  He couldn’t bear the thought of something bad happening to her again.  They needed to find a way past this.  

For the team.  For each other.  And for themselves. 

Natasha found his hands and gently squeezed, “Steve, look at me.”  He did.  He looked up with a desperation in his eyes, “I _need_ you to be okay, Natasha.”

She scooted closer and ran her fingers through his beard, “Steve, I _am_ okay because of you.  We are okay because of each other.  And we’re going to be okay, because of our love and trust in one another.”  

He turned into her palm as she ran her thumb across his cheek, “Steve, do you know how hard it was for me to run from the FBI over two weeks ago, when you asked me to?  For me to leave you there, and spend the next few hours fearing everything imaginable, but trying to hold it together in front of everyone?  I know Wanda and Pepper and Sarah, and pretty much everyone else were feeling the same way that night.  But for me, it was the first time in such a long time, I’d felt that with you.  And it was awful.  It was _absolutely_ awful, I’m not going to lie.  I don’t even think I’m being dramatic in saying it was a few of the hardest hours I’ve experienced.  And I mean that, knowing _fully_ what I’ve been through...What we’ve _both_ been through, Steve.”

His hands found her knees as he took a breath and listened, “Steve, do you know how I got through it?  Besides letting Peter help distract me?  Do you know how I saw Wanda and Pepper and your mother get through it?”

Blue met green again, as he managed to say through a shaky voice, “How, Natasha?”

Her lips didn’t quite meet her cheeks, but she did attempt a smile, “Because I love you.  And I trust you to do your job well.  You’re a damn good field agent, Steve.  You were a Captain in the Army, and are an excellent tactician and think quickly on your feet in combat.  I trusted that you were going to make it back to me, and you did.  But more than that, I promised myself that night, that the next time you were going to go out and fight, I was going to be right by your side.  Because _that_ is when we’re at our strongest.”  

Steve ran his hands up to her thighs as she continued, “Steve, for all my life, Clint and I fought side-by-side.  And for five years, you gave me the biggest wake-up call, as we found a way to truly trust and rely on each other as partners in love, in the field.  Melinda and Phil warned us of how difficult that would be.  And it was, and still will be.  But it was worth it because _we_ make each other stronger, Steve.  We always have, and we always will.”

Steve knew she was right.  Yes, he always worried about her in the back of his mind when they’d been partners before.  But there was a strength from the foundation they’d formed that overpowered the fear.  There was a comfort in knowing that your partner in life and in the field, had your back.  That someone as strong and intelligent and capable as Natasha Romanoff, was right by your side.  

They’d broken down every wall and shared everything over the last few weeks, so Steve didn’t hold back as he voiced his last concern, “Do you think it’ll be the same, Natasha?”

She had tears in her own eyes to match his.  Natasha knew what Steve was asking.  Would they be as strong together now, since time and distance and tragedy had separated them?  

She didn’t have to think about her response, “No, Steve.  It’ll be better.  We are stronger together than we are apart.  We _always_ have been.  And just an FYI, we were still pretty damn strong apart.”

He chuckled, feeling a relief in his heart and stomach as he squeezed her thighs and let his heart breathe, “I know, Natasha.  I do.  And I trust you.  I just…”

Natasha leaned forward to brush her lips over his for a moment, “You’re scared, Steve.  I am too, and that’s okay.  But I’m a lot less scared, knowing that we’ll be fighting together.  That we’ll have each other’s backs.  That we can watch out for each other and help the team together.  We are stronger together, and we’ll be stronger than we ever were before.  Besides.  It’s just a grab and go mission, just like Fury said.”

Steve held her cheeks in his hands and chuckled, “Yeah, because that’s always the case.  Fury’s missions were never what they seemed at Quantico, and this one won’t be either.  But you are right.  We’re stronger together, Nat.”

He found her lips again as he pulled them down both to the bed, feeling that warmth and trust and strength between them.  They fell asleep side-by-side, knowing that tomorrow when they woke, they would both go on the mission and would be stronger together.   

* * *

Velcro ripping and fastening as vests were secured.  Magazines and clips being checked and counted on rifles and handguns.  Boots tapping as knees nervously bounced.  Fingers being drummed on the table.  Rapid typing on keyboards.  Gum being chewed within tense jawlines.  And the ever-consistent sound over the last two and a half weeks of Fury tapping his finger on his Morse Code telegraph. 

Sounds _filled_ the air. 

It was late in the afternoon.  The task-force had been going over the plans repeatedly for the grab and go mission at Pierce’s estate this evening.  The entire task-force was going on the mission, minus Fury, Loki, Wanda, and Bruce.  They were running point on comms and overseeing technical and logistical matters from afar.  They were the eyes and ears for the team, in case they needed a wake-up call in the midst of the mission. 

Clint and his team were going too.  Having the five mercenaries in the room, along with the task-force, was interesting to say the least.  Jessica Jones looked like she wanted to fight Thor, just because he was the tallest in the room, and she wanted to show who was really boss.  Castle and Loki were at odds from the get go.  And Danny Rand was annoying the hell out of Tony, “Barton, this is quite the rag tag group you work with.  Does this kid ever shut up?” 

Clint laughed, I'm guessing most would say the same about you, Stark."  Tony rolled his eyes and walked over to Steve, “These guys are seriously good, Rogers?”

Steve nodded but had his eyes on Natasha.  She was ready before she came downstairs, and was one of the individuals currently bouncing her knee.  Steve stood right behind her and just rested his hand on her shoulder, calming her instantly. 

Fury grinned at the room of agents, former agents, and never would be agents, “Looks like a championship team to me.” 

Bucky stood by Wanda and gave her his wedding ring to hold onto before he asked, “Fury, where are these people that are supposed to be here from the D.O.D.?  I thought you said you were pulling on that thread yesterday.”

“Barnes, your timing was always impeccable.  They just arrived.” 

Just as Fury finished, two women and a man came strolling into the room in similar tactical gear.  Maria broke the sudden awkwardness, “Daisy?  What the heck!”  Daisy Johnson had grown up near Maria in New York and both women came from law enforcement families.  Daisy immediately shot back, “Fury, you sneak.  You didn’t tell me Maria was on the task-force.  Here I thought she was too big at Homeland to get her actual hands dirty in the field still.  That’s what your Dad tells mine at least.”

Fury grinned, “Everyone, this is Daisy Johnson, Lance Hunter and Bobbi Morse.  They have been undercover for the last few years for me at the Pentagon.  Let’s just say, I like to know who our nukes are pointed at, at all times.  And these three have kept me in the loop.”

In a thick British accent, Lance spoke up, “Yeah until yesterday, Fury.  So much for going back to the D.O.D. now.”  Bobbi smacked him up the side of the head, “Don’t mind him, Fury.  He’s been itching to get back in the field.”

Daisy handed Wanda a USB drive, “You look like the woman who’s really in charge here.  This will help with being our eyes and ears.  It’s a detailed blueprint of Pierce’s house and grounds.”

Fury spoke up, “You all don’t know this, but these three were my prized group of trainees before the 11 of you were.  They graduated from Quantico a few years ahead of you, and were really good at off the book type projects.  I decided to run with it.  Coulson and May have been guiding them from afar for the last several years, while our team…readjusted to all the changes.”

Castle grumbled to Jones, “Great, one big fucking family.”  She chewed her gum a little louder, not liking or caring at all, about the formality of this meet and greet, “I can’t believe I’m agreeing with Castle, but can we get this ball rolling?”

The tension was high with the joined teams in the room, but they were all working towards the same goal.  Finding the intel, so they could actually work towards preventing the attack. 

Wanda projected the new blueprint.  “Okay, these are great.  I don’t know if I even want to know how you got them since you were in D.C. and Pierce’s property is outside of New York City.”  

Hunter was fired up as he spoke, “Pierce is a dirty old politician.  Doesn’t matter what country his loyalty belongs to...he’s still got the same weaknesses as every other dirty old man.  Women.  Bobbi went back to the Pentagon with him and slipped a mickey in his drink after a fundraiser a few weeks back.  It was after he’d had one too many, to avoid suspicion.  _My wife_ flirted with him way too much and got the data off of his computer in his office while it was still up.  She said nothing else needs to be explained.  So, I guess I’m not allowed to ask any questions.”

“Lance!”  Bobbi hit him again before Steve cleared his throat and stepped toward the table, “Fury, we need to bring them up to speed and get a move on.  We have an hour drive.  According to the three of them, we have a window of a couple hours to get in and out with the files, because Pierce is home this weekend but will be out of the house at that time.” 

Wanda spoke up, “Remember, whichever team finds the intel, needs to copy with photos if it's physical files.  Or with your USB drives we have you if it’s electronic.”  Sam asked, “And if the electronic files are encrypted?”  

“That’s what we are for, Wilson,” Loki answered. 

Steve took over again, "Maria, Rhodey, and Thor.  You’re with Murdock and Rand, covering the perimeter and taking out the guards on the grounds.  There are two main floors.  Team one, which includes myself, Romanoff, Wilson, Jones, Cage, and Castle will be on the second floor.  Team two, which includes Stark, Barnes, Barton, Johnson, Hunter, and Morse will cover the first floor."

Steve nodded to everyone around the room, "There are 20 of us, with three of us back here with Fury.  You know your teams.  You know the mission.  We find the intel, so we can finally take them down.  We're stronger together and have each other's backs out there, no matter what.  Remember, the start of Poseidon's end begins tonight.  Whatever it takes.”

Natasha and Bucky smirked as Sam chuckled, “You still doing those on the fly, Cap? Or did you finally write something down?” 

* * *

Three black SUV’s were ready in front of the compound.  Three teams with a simple mission.  To retrieve the plans hidden in Alexander Pierce’s mansion.    

A flurry of movement and good lucks were happening around Natasha.  Wanda and Bucky going through their normal routine.  Sarah and Steve.  Pepper and Tony.  Loki was trying to relax Maria, Sam, Rhodey and Thor, through his typical sarcasm.  Clint was looking down at his feet nervously as Laura squeezed his hand and leaned up to give him a quick kiss on the cheek.  Relationships and friendships, new and old, were comforting one another and promising that they would see each other soon. 

And Natasha...was currently kneeling down and hugging a four-year old boy who didn’t understand what was going on around him.  But he could tell something was happening because his mom and dad were hugging and his grandma and uncle were doing the same.  

“Are you scared Nat?”

Natasha cupped his cheeks and looked in his big wondrous eyes as he went on, “Mom and Dad hug when they’re scared.  Daddy doesn’t know, but mommy cries when he leaves.”

Natasha was trying her hardest to keep it together, “She does?  Does she know that you see her cry, Peter?”  Peter shook his head and suddenly looked scared too, but Natasha found the resolve inside her and took a breath, “Peter, can I tell you a secret?”

Peter nodded, “Good.  Do you remember the _very_ first night you stayed here with all these adults?  When you met me and Loki?“  Peter thought about what Natasha was asking, “You read me the book?”  Natasha smiled warmly at him, “That’s right.  Well, you didn’t know this then.  But I was _really scared_ that night.  But do you know who helped me, more than anyone else?”

Peter looked confused as Natasha grinned and reached over with her finger to bop him on the nose, “You did.  You were so brave that night and helped me.  By just being you.  You helped me _so much_ by cuddling with me, and letting me read to you, and by becoming my friend that night.  So, I need you to do something for me tonight, after me and your Uncle Steve and your Dad leave to go for a little drive.”

“What?” Peter’s voice was soft, and he was so attentive, like he would do absolutely anything in the world right now that Natasha asked him to.  

“I need you to do the _same exact_ thing for your mom and Grandma.  For Pepper and Laura.  For grumpy ol’ Nick, and for Bruce and Betty.  And even for Loki.  I know Loki likes to pretend he doesn’t get scared.  But sometimes, those are the people who need that extra help from a strong and brave little boy.  What do you think, can you be yourself for everyone, while we go for a little bit?  Can you hug them and maybe even let a couple people read you stories until your Daddy gets back?”  

Peter looked like he was trying to think about what Natasha had asked before he nodded, “Yeah, Nat.”  

Natasha pulled him into a big hug and saw Steve looking at her with a stoic expression on his face.  Like he couldn’t let himself dive into the emotions he was truly feeling right now.  But when his eyes connected with hers, she saw him swallow and his fingers tighten a little on his tac belt.  Natasha kissed Peter on the cheek, “You’re so brave, Peter.  Now go give your Mommy and Daddy another big hug.”

Steve was standing right by Natasha now as Peter looked up at him and thought for a second before saying, “Uncle Steve?”  Steve kneeled down by Natasha, “Yeah, Peter?”  

Peter leaned up to Steve’s ear and whispered loudly, thinking that Natasha couldn’t hear him, “Nat said she was scared and I helped her.  Will you help her too?”  

The eyes and innocence of a child.  They can sometimes see and hear so much more than what they’re given credit for.  Steve’s eyes threatened to show how scared he was too, but he ruffled Peter’s hair and hugged him again, “Yeah, Buddy.  I will help her.  I promise.”  

Peter stood in the middle of their kneeling bodies, and wrapped both of his arms around their necks and pulled them into as big of a hug as he could muster, “I love you, Nat.  I love you, Uncle Steve.”  Natasha caught the side of Steve’s eyes as they shut briefly.  

She reached around Peter’s back to grab Steve’s hand.  And _just for a second,_ she let herself wish they could stay here tonight with Peter.  With everyone.  Within the protection of their little hug.  

“I love you too, Peter.”  

Steve and Natasha said it together as Peter squeezed again and then ran off to have an even more heartfelt moment with his parents as he plowed right in between them.  

Steve and Natasha stood up as he grabbed her hand, “You okay, Natasha?”  She nodded her head as she took a couple of breaths to collect herself, “Yeah.  I am, Steve.  I need to be, because _that_ is exactly why we need to find those files and figure out what Poseidon is planning.  _That_ is exactly why we need to take Poseidon down.”

Steve needed to prepare mentally, but he pulled her into a quick hug, “You were wonderful with Peter, Nat.  Can you promise me one thing though?”  She looked back at him, “Anything, Steve.”  His hands tightened around the small of her back, “You were right.  We’re stronger together.  You being in the field now is right.  You’re ready, and we’re all going to be better because of it.  But _promise me_ , we stay together.  I need that right now, Nat.  I _need_ to hear it.”

They’d been on more dangerous missions in the past.  Many of them.  But this was the first time in seven years they were going to do this together again.  And it scared the shit out of Steve, for all the reasons he’d already expressed to Natasha.  She felt it too, as she squeezed his waist and pressed her cheek into his vest a little more, “I promise, Steve.  I promise we’re a team out there.  No going off on our own.  You and me working together.  Stronger together.”  

He gave a quick kiss to the top of her head, “Your wearing two vests, right?”  She nodded, “Yeah.  We all are, Steve.  Just in case they’re using the same type of bullets Rumlow had.  Let’s get going so we can get back here even sooner, okay?”

They gave a final wave to Sarah.

On their way out, Bucky and Steve gave knowing glances to each other.  And Clint came up to Natasha, “You got this, Tasha.”  She smiled back at him, “We both do, Clint.  Besides...I’d hate for anything to get in the way of that kiss on the cheek that Laura gave to you.”  Clint rolled his eyes, “You’re a pain in the ass, you know?  Seriously though, we took a big bite out of Poseidon in Kazakhstan.  We do it again tonight.”  She nodded in agreement, “Tonight, Clint.”  

Both sets of siblings parted ways as everyone made their way into their SUV’s.   

* * *

A little over an hour later, and after a very tense and quiet drive in three separate SUV’s, the task-force parked on a hidden side road covered by trees.  They needed to cut across another acreage for a quarter mile on foot to reach Pierce’s estate.  

Wanda, Loki, Bruce, and Fury were all in the meeting room at the compound.  Wanda spoke through comms, “Quarter mile north, and you’ll be able to sneak in through a side gate, just beyond the tree line.  Loki’s infrared scans show two guards at the main entrance.  And one around the perimeter, circling the grounds.”

Steve’s voice came through, “And inside the house?”  Loki answered, “It looks like three on the first floor.  Probably house staff, Rogers.”  The three teams stood together as Steve, Tony, and Thor all looked at each other and nodded.  

The air was crisp, as a clear sky of stars blanketed them overhead.  Silent footsteps in the grass.  Soft clicking of rifles on their backs.  Rubbing of arms against Kevlar vests.  It all created a rhythm of quiet sounds as they fell in step with each other.  Within five minutes they were at the side gate.  Steve nodded to Thor and his team as they went off toward the front entrance to knock out the guards.  

Steve and Natasha looked at Tony, Bucky, and Clint as Rogers whispered, “You go east Tony and circle around from the right.  Then cover the first floor.  We’ll come around from the west and cover the second floor.  Remember, don't fire any guns unless it’s an absolute last resort.”  

“Got it, Cap.”  Tony’s team was off, as Natasha and Steve led their group of six in the opposite direction.  If there was ever any question if Alexander Pierce came from money, all one would have to do is look at his estate. 

Five acres of plush lawns, perfectly placed trees, a cobblestone drive leading up and circling around the front of pillars on the red stone mansion.  It looked like something out of the old TV show _Dynasty_ , and it was as if they could smell the money in the air as Sam asked “What the hell is a wealthy old dude who’s had everything handed to him in life doing, working for the Russians?”

Jones snarked, “Power begets power, Wilson.  There are old white dudes at the top of the food chain in most countries.  It’s the way the world is.  Maybe Pierce gets along with the Russians more than his compadres.”

“Fucking traitor,” Castle mumbled.  Sam added, “Cap, you see how pissed off Fury was when he found out Pierce was playing for the other side?”

Steve nodded, “Fury and him go way back with Ross to Vietnam.  I’m sure Fury feels personally betrayed, beyond the fact that Pierce is betraying his country.”

Steve stopped abruptly, and raised his fist in the air, as the team fell in line behind him.  Thor and Maria’s voices echoed in their ears, “Front guards are knocked out, Rogers.  We’re securing the perimeter now.”

They were at the back of the house, and the remaining guard outside was smoking a cigarette on a very large patio.  Just as he put the end of the cigarette into a flower pot, Steve snuck up behind him and knocked him in the base of the neck with his elbow.  He put him in a chokehold immediately, and Natasha came up to the side of Steve and as she put a rag into the guard’s mouth.  He went limp within seconds as she looked at Steve and winked, “Chloroform is not going to kill him.  Don’t worry, Rogers.”

He grinned, “Who said anything about being worried, Romanoff.  Nice work.”

Sam rolled his eyes, “Hey lovebirds, quit flirting over bodies on the ground.”  Natasha ignored him and pointed her head towards the back door that was left open by the guard.  

Steve led the way inside the soft glow of the house.  They were in the kitchen and dining area as Tony’s team came through the front entrance.  Clint immediately knocked out a butler, and Bobbi and Lance had taken out two maids as Tony nodded at Steve, “Fancy seeing you here, Cap.”  They scattered throughout the first floor as Steve’s team made their way to the large staircase by the main entrance.   

Steve and Natasha.  Wilson and Cage.  Castle and Jones.  Two by two, they went up the steps to the second floor as Wanda spoke in their ears, “Okay there’s eight bedrooms, three bathrooms, an upstairs lounge, office, study, and exercise room, and multiple closets.  Spread your team out.  Remember, you have under an hour according to Bobbi, Daisy, and Lance.”

Steve pointed Castle and Cage to the left, and Jones and Wilson to the right, “Start at both ends and work your way back to the middle.  Romanoff and I will take the workout room, study, and office.”

Natasha and Steve started in the workout room and were done quickly.  There were no pictures on the walls.  Just a closet with weights and mats, with mirrors and a bike, treadmill, and elliptical machine.

They moved onto the lounge quickly as they heard Bucky say over comms, “Kitchen clear.”  Followed by Tony, “Dining Room clean,” and Sam, “First bedroom clear.”

Steve and Natasha made their way into the office, which is where they both would have predicted something to be.  But fifteen minutes later after carefully looking over every nook and cranny in the dark, they were frustrated and said together, “Nothing here.”

Four more bedrooms, two bathrooms downstairs along with the foyer and living room were all clear, and everyone’s frustration was growing.  

Steve had thought it last night, holding Natasha after she finally fell asleep.  Maybe the intel wouldn’t be here.  Yes, Natasha heard Rumlow and Rollins talking around seven weeks ago, but there were a lot of factors going into it.  Steve believed her, but it didn’t stop him from worrying about her if this turned out to be a bust.  

Natasha paused to look out the window, almost blending in with the shadows in the dark.  Steve watched her shut her eyes and take a breath, trying to collect herself after hearing the growing concern in everyone’s voices with each new space that came up empty.  

He went up to her and put his hand on her shoulder, “This is gonna work, Natasha.”

Her forehead creased as she swallowed and looked up at him, “I know it will, Steve.  Because I don’t know what I’m gonna do if it doesn’t.”

Steve angled his head towards the door, “Come on.  Let’s look through the lounge and then the study.  We gotta keep moving.”

Fifteen minutes later, every room had been cleared in the entire house except for the Study.  The garage, the basement and even the pool house and two sheds outside had been checked.  Nothing.  

They were left with just themselves in the house and the study needing to be searched, as Wanda’s voice crackled through their ears, “We have a limousine and two SUV’s approaching from a mile away.  Time to clear out, guys.”

“Shit,” Steve muttered.  He looked at Sam, “Get everyone else downstairs, Wilson.  I will stay back and look through the study.”  Natasha instantly stepped toward him, “The hell you will, Steve.  You stay, I stay.  Together, remember?”

Steve blew out a breath, wanting nothing in the world but to send Natasha off into safety with everyone else.  But he made a promise and looked in her eyes.  And he _trusted_ what they’d said to each other and nodded, “Stronger together.”  

He looked back at Sam, “Natasha and I will stay back and finish looking in the Study.  Get everyone out now, and back to the SUV’s.  If I tell you to drive off without us, you don’t hesitate, you hear?”  Sam nodded, clearly wanting to disagree, but he didn’t.  Steve knew what he was doing, and he trusted the leader of this team.  

“Come on, Natasha.  Let’s make this quick.”  Maria bought them some time outside by putting on the security guard’s jacket and hat at the gate, who was a female.  She kept her head down, sat on her stool, and prayed that the drivers for the limo and SUV’s didn’t notice any differences.  The male guard was laying behind a couple of trees, 30 feet away.  The female guard she was impersonating was out cold, on the floor of the little shed at Maria’s feet.  Both were out of the line of sight.  

“Good evening,” The limo driver said.  

Maria pretended to sneeze, to keep from looking at him and mumbled something about the chilly air catching her off guard tonight.  The limo driver took off, smiling and wishing her well as Maria pretended to blow her nose next, remaining somewhat hidden from the two SUV’s as well.  They were pulling up to the front of the house as she snuck out and ran for the side gate, “Nice moves, Hill,” Sam grinned as she joined up with him and his team as they ran off toward their SUV’s.  

It bought them some time.  A few minutes maybe until one of the unconscious maids were discovered, or until one of the guards woke, but Natasha and Steve took every second that was bought as they rapidly looked through the study. 

Steve reluctantly looked over at her, “Natasha...I don’t think.”

“No.  No, Steve.  It’s here.  It has to be.”  She looked back at him with her eyes glassing up, “It _has_ to be, Steve.  What are we going to do if we don’t figure out when and where exactly, Poseidon is attacking?”

Steve wanted to pull her into a hug, but they didn’t have time for this.  The room had been looked over, twice now.  And nothing was found.  They scoured the entire mansion and grounds over the last hour, and there was nothing.  Loki’s voice broke through, “Rogers, Romanoff.  Are you standing at the edge of the room?”

They looked at each other as Natasha answered, “Yeah, Loki we are.  We’re in front of a bookshelf.”

They could hear Wanda and Loki mumbling over their earpieces as Steve’s impatience rose, “Guys, what is it?  We are in a pinch with absolutely no time.”  

Loki answered, “Okay, this is going to sound like something out of Sherlock Holmes, but why not...there’s five feet of space in these blueprints...right by you.  Like open space, according to what we’re looking at.  I think there is a room behind the bookcase.  You’re going to have to find a latch or lever of some sort.”  

“You’ve gotta be shitting me,” Steve kept looking to the exit as he heard car doors outside the house now.  Natasha was scanning over the bookcase frantically as Steve started looking too, “We look for another minute, Romanoff.  Then we go no matter what.  I know we need to find these files, but it’s not worth your life.”

“Then get looking faster, Rogers.”  

He did.  They scanned over shelves and shelves of books and trinkets.  A gold pocket watch on display.  An old black and white photograph of Fury, Ross, and Pierce from their Vietnam days made Natasha’s blood boil.  And she about screamed when she caught another photograph, that was much more recent, with Pierce in the middle of a bunch of older individuals.  And also in the picture, were Ivan and Oksana.  Natasha took her phone out of her vest and snapped a photo of the images quick as they kept looking.  

The minute was almost up, but Natasha found something.  A weird addition of the ' _Iliad and The Odyssey.'_  It wasn’t the title, or the fact that the leather book had gold lettering emblazoned on the outside of it.  It _was_ the branding on the spine of the book.  There was an image of a trident, a two-headed eagle, and the hammer and sickle.  Just like Natasha’s back.  She had chills running down her spine.

“Steve look.”  

She didn’t wait.  They didn’t have time to wait as Natasha pulled on the top of the book and heard the sound of metal rubbing against metal until a click followed.  There was a false wall and they heard a latch from behind the case.  The side of the book case shifted slightly.

“Son of a bitch, Steve.” 

Steve hit his earpiece, "Tony, can you hear me?  We have a problem.  We found something.  Might be everything.  But Pierce and his men are about to come inside.  We are going to need a distraction to hold them off.  If they find the maids knocked out, we’re done for.”

“You got it, Rogers.  We’re on it.”

Maria, Thor, and Rhodey and their team were off in their SUV.  The three of them would remain hidden with weapons in case something went wrong.  Rand and Murdock would try to distract Pierce and his men for as long as possible.  

The truth was, Murdock was the most eloquent, and Rand once came from wealth, before losing everything and finding the mercenaries.  They were both unknown to Pierce, and at least had a shot of distracting him for a few minutes.  More so than anyone else at least.  Everyone else was known to him.  And Jones and Castle didn’t scream, ‘welcome party’ by any means.  

Rand and Murdock had to take their doubled up vests off.  And they found a sweater and hoodie in the SUV, to make themselves appear a little more normal.  They would do their best to buy as many minutes as Steve and Natasha needed.

Steve and Natasha opened the heavy case like a doorway and found a server room inside as Natasha said, “Wanda, Loki...you’re going to have to work your magic from afar because it’s not physical files.  They're electronic.  Are you able to connect if I plug in the USB drive?  It looks like there’s a bunch of old servers that Steve can just copy on his own.  But the main one that has a blue light on it?  You’ll need to hack into it.”

“Plug it in.  We’re on it, Natasha.”  Loki had a sense of trepidation in his voice.  The tension was felt by everyone as each precious second of the clock ticked away.  

Steve was copying all the old files.  It reminded him of how Natasha had done so in Quantico’s server room on two separate occasions, “Wanda, how do we know that they won’t be able to tell I’m copying these files on these old servers?”  

“The drive I gave you wipes out the copy date.  It’s meant to copy without a trace.  It’s just the one that Natasha plugged in, that’s giving us a harder time.”  Natasha kept looking over her shoulder, “That means it’s the most important one.  Tony, can you hear us?  What’s the status on Rand and Murdock?”

Tony was trying to sound calm, but Steve could hear how tight his voice was, “They just pulled the SUV up outside.  Pierce’s guards from the SUV’s have their guns pulled, but Rand is talking a mile a minute, pretending like his vehicle is a half mile down the road...He told Pierce it’s broken down...and his grandmother is in his car having trouble breathing.  He said Matt picked him up, but he didn’t have his cell phone on him.  So, they’re asking to use Pierce’s phone to call for help.”

Natasha sounded even more worried, “Wanda, what’s the status?”  

“Natasha, I’m almost in.  Pierce had an eight-digit encryption key, but Loki got it.”  Loki’s voice cut her off, “The moron _actually_ used the word _'Poseidon_ ,' for his key.  What a fucking ego maniac.”

Wanda spoke again, “Okay, files are downloading fast.  We’re at 75 percent already.  Just wait another couple seconds...Okay got it.  Make sure you don’t leave a trace behind, the lights are off, no footprints or anything.  If we’re going to have the jump on Poseidon, Pierce can't suspect we have these files."

Steve and Natasha did as Loki and Wanda said, as she tucked the USB drive into her vest next to her phone, and nodded at Steve.  They got out of the hidden room and shut the bookcase.  Natasha pushed the _‘Iliad and the Odyssey_ ,’ back into place until she heard the click, and they snuck out of the study.  

They could hear voices talking through the front door that was open, but no one was inside yet, “I’m really sorry about this, Sir.  You’re so kind to help me out and let me use your cell phone.”  

Natasha panicked, “Steve, we have to steal something from downstairs that’s valuable...so they think it’s a break-in.  Otherwise, Pierce might put it together, when he finds the maids and security guards knocked out.”

“Bucky.  Clint.  Did you guys see anything on the first floor that looked really valuable?”  

They both responded at the same time, “ _Everything_.”  But Clint spoke again, “Tasha, I swear I saw a Faberge Egg.  Like something from the old history books about Russian Czars or something.  I _swear_ I saw one in the living room downstairs.”

“Okay, Steve.  We gotta get that egg and then run.”  

They were in the living room 20 seconds later and found it on display on a cherry bookcase, next to a photograph of Pierce and his wife in Moscow in Red Square.  Natasha wanted to yell at her worlds colliding in a twisted way, but she didn’t.  She took the egg, put it in her vest awkwardly, and they snuck out the back door.  Dragging the security guard from the patio, they hid him in the bushes.  And then Steve and Natasha ran to the side gate as Tony was telling Rand and Murdock to get the fuck out of there now.

Rand handed Pierce his phone back, thanking him again as he and Murdock walked back to the SUV.  Pierce stopped him though, “Are you sure you don’t want to come inside for a glass of milk, Son?  You look awfully nervous.  It might help you calm down while you wait for the ambulance.”

Maria, Thor and Rhodey, were all on their backs.  On top of each other practically, in the back of the SUV.  Their hands were on their guns, waiting to make their move, but Murdock spoke up, “You know, it’s good people in the world like you, Sir, that make me sleep better at night.  But I was on my way home to my wife as it was.  I really should get him back to his grandmother, so we know she’s still doing okay.  I think this young man would rather wait by her side.  I would imagine you would want to do the same.”

The moonlight illuminated Pierce as he stared at the men for a second, contemplating his next move.  But he relented and smiled, “Of course.  Of course.  Forgive me.  Have a good evening, gentlemen.”

Rand got into the passenger side and Murdock was behind the wheel as they circled around the drive. 

Natasha and Steve’s chests were pounding.  Their lungs were burning.  And they were in utter shock that it had worked.  They didn’t know exactly _what_ they had on the USB drive, but they knew it was something big.  And they couldn’t believe everyone was okay.  They were cutting across the adjacent estate’s grounds after they’d closed the side gate to Pierce’s property, and Steve pulled Natasha into a quick hug, “I’m so glad you’re okay, Nat.  God, I love you.”  Natasha hugged him back, “I love you too.  Told you I was right.”  He grinned as they took off jogging again towards the SUV’s. 

But they should’ve known better than to count their blessings so soon.

Minutes later, Pierce and his men would all go inside and discover the Faberge egg had been stolen as the maids were found on the kitchen floor.  But it wasn’t minutes later.  Pierce didn’t even need that as motivation right now.  He just knew something was off about the men.  

Pierce looked down at his phone to see that Rand _hadn’t_ actually made a phone call.  Squinting his eyes for just a second, he waved over a guard, standing by his SUV.

“Batroc, get over here.”  

Georges Batroc, Pierce's lead security, came over and looked ready to fight.  Pierce continued, “I just looked at my phone, and it turns out, that young man did not call 911.  He didn’t call anyone at all on my phone.  Something is off about him.  Take care of it.”

 _Take care of it._  

Pierce was not asking Batroc to go and make sure the man’s grandmother was actually okay.  Alexander was a cold man of power, who didn’t hesitate to make a call of violence if he found himself questioning something.  Batroc was only too happy to help as he nodded to his men in the SUV, and they were peeling away from the circular drive as quickly as Pierce had told him, ‘ _Take care of it.’_

Tony and Steve’s SUV’s received word that Rand and Murdock were safely away from the grounds, and they’d taken off in the same direction.  But they should have known.  

The other shoe was about to drop.  

Because when they got onto the road that Murdock, Rand, Maria, Thor, and Rhodey were on, they were horrified as they watched the scene quickly unfold in front of them.  Wanda was yelling through their earpieces, “Maria, you have an SUV approaching fast from behind you.  You need to get away quick.”  

That was the last thing they remembered Wanda saying, because everything else happened so fast. 

Steve and Tony turned on their high beam lights immediately, and drove side-by-side as they floored their SUVs.  The next thing Steve saw in front of him was this man they didn’t know the name of, attempt to, ‘ _Take care of it.’_  

Georges Batroc stood up through the sunroof of his own SUV, that another guard was driving.  Steve’s eyes weren’t playing tricks on him.  The man was holding a goddamn Bazooka.  

And Batroc didn’t hesitate.  But neither did the task-force.

Steve and Tony were shouting as they flashed their headlights and blared their car horns, trying everything they could to distract.  Natasha leaned out her passenger side window and Bucky was doing the same out of his, as they neared Batroc and his men.  Tony and Steve gave the go ahead, and Natasha and Bucky started firing at the vehicle in front of them.  

The Bazooka was fired, just as Bucky hit the bumper and Natasha shot the rear window out, causing Batroc’s vehicle to swerve.  He got a shot off though, as the small rocket blasted into the night.  But he missed Thor’s SUV directly.  

Where it did hit, was right underneath the SUV’s rear end.  A fireball burst from the impact as the rocket met the road.  Yes, a larger explosion was avoided, because the rocket didn’t hit the gas tank.  All due to the task-force’s quick thinking and gunfire.  But, a wreck of unknown consequences _was not_ avoided. 

The blast caused the targeted vehicle to thrust into the air from behind.  And gravity forced the SUV to flip, as it rolled several times before coming to a crashing stop on the road.  Shattered glass and crunched metal surrounded the turned over vehicle, with gas leaking out of the undercarriage.  The fire from where the rocket hit the concrete, lingered 150 feet behind.     

Batroc’s SUV had flown by and drove off into the night.

Just like that.  

Just as quick as Steve and Natasha had said I love you to each other, thinking they’d gotten everything they needed.  Just as quickly as Wanda and Loki and Fury and Bruce were all screaming into everyone’s earpieces, demanding to know what happened.  Just like that, a wake-up call was given, that Alexander Pierce was not to be trifled with.  

They may have gotten the needed intel to try and win the war, but this battle was far from a victory.  And the consequences were not yet known.  

Steve and Tony’s SUV’s screeched to a halt as everyone barreled out, trying to find the five people who were just attacked.  

And all Wanda and Loki, and everyone back at the compound could hear, was yelling and screaming and crying through earpieces.  All they heard was the sound of several team members shouting, “Wake up!  Wake up!”

* * *

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something stupid and light-hearted and fun at the beginning of this. Crazy, right?? It is possible for me to write that sort of stuff from time to time. 😉 
> 
> But...Then I'm back to my regular M.O. for the majority of the update, with Russia and the Present Day. Things are heating up right now as we approach this steep hill with the roller coaster were on as the end nears. 
> 
> Hold on tight. 
> 
> No...In all seriousness, just like with each update drawing closer to the end, I'm left feeling bittersweet about Russia.  
> I'm really sad to close out the Russia timeline. It was fun and hot...and had action and fancy and splendor. It was an absolute blast to write, but...all good things, right?? I hope you enjoyed the conclusion of that part of their history. A part that was small in timeframe, but oh so important in the grand scheme of things, when considering crossroads and ripple effects. 
> 
> Your support and positive energy are such a big boost to me with each update. And with each new post, I can't thank you all enough, as we get another step closer to the end of our Scooby Gang's journey. 
> 
> ❤❤❤❤
> 
> Come follow me on Tumblr @eightieskat to chat about this story, anything Marvel, or anything in general!
> 
> I love hearing from you, so let me know your thoughts on this chapter, since we closed out the Russia timeline, and as we edge closer to the finish line. 
> 
> Have a great weekend! Cheers!! ~~ Kat


	25. Stronger Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty solid theme of friendship throughout the years and being Stronger Together as the title suggests in this one. 
> 
> Fallout from Pierce’s estate and some building / groundwork being laid for the next few chapters in the present. The last big test from 12 years ago at Quantico (Sniff), and then…There’s a flashback to their time together as a team before everything went to hell from eight years ago…that honestly kind of takes over the update halfway through. I do hope you like it. I sure as heck had fun writing it. :) Heavy smut warning ahead. It may even rival ch. 19…because I’m apparently depraved. 
> 
> It’s a long one – shocker I know. But you know by now how I operate by now – there’s a theme with these updates, which really are mini stories in themselves that included 4 or 5 ‘chapters’ each.
> 
> Since there’s a few weeks in between updates right now, I’d tell you to spread out the reading over however long you need…but I know I don’t do that when there is an update to a story I’m reading. So, read at your own leisure.
> 
> I really hope you enjoy the update and image boards below.

Memories & Reality

I do not own any of this or any part of Marvel or the MCU 

Chapter 25 – Stronger Together

* * *

_Good friends are hard to find, harder to leave and impossible to forget - G. Randolf._

***

 **Present Day -** Driving

“Sam, quit driving like a maniac.  You’re all over the road!”  

The alarm in Natasha’s voice resonated through everyone’s ears as she kneeled in the space between the front and the middle seat of the SUV.  Steve was hunched over on his knees, between Thor and Danny Rand in the back end.  And Jessica Jones crowded in the front with Daisy, trying to direct Sam where to go, “No Wilson, we _have_ to stay off the main roads.  We’ll stick out like a fucking sore thumb if we go that way.  Turn here.”

To say the tension was high and the available space in the SUV was low, was an _understatement_. 

“Why aren’t you driving then?” Sam yelled back at her.  The anxiety in his voice was evident as he kept glancing back at who was sprawled across the middle bench. 

And Steve and Natasha had their hands full, adding to all the stress. 

Danny was passed out to Steve’s right, but Thor was more than awake.  He was yelling and thrashing around on Steve’s left.  It was definitely a challenge to keep him still, with his sharp movements causing the SUV to rock at times, even as it was speeding down a back road. 

“Rogers, you gotta settle him down!” Sam yelled back towards Steve. 

And Natasha? 

She was filled to the brim with worry, looking back at Steve trying to help Thor, as she struggled on her own to calm Maria down too.  Natasha was crouched into a tiny ball of a position.  It wasn’t her own discomfort that was causing the panic inside though.  It was the fact that she had a blanket tightly wrapped around Maria, trying with all of her strength to hold her in place, “Maria, it’s Natasha.  Shh, we’re on the road.  We’re going to get you help.”

Oh, how the tables turned in this twisted story.  Almost two months ago, Steve had been in almost the same exact position, trying to calm Natasha in the seat of an SUV after rescuing her from a rafter.  Steve looked over the bench, and for just a moment his eyes connected with hers. 

The thought weighed heavily on both of them as the pools of wetness threatened to spread in Natasha’s eyes, but she blinked them away and nodded at Steve, silently telling him to stay strong.  He was telling her the same thing.

Yes, the SUV was packed.  Yes, the sounds were almost deafening from the demands of road directions in the front.  And from Thor’s bellows and Maria’s whimpers.  _And_ from Natasha and Steve’s frantic breathing.  It was dark, and the outside whirled by them as Sam pushed 85 mph on the road. 

But it was the _smell_ that lingered in the air, swelling to an extent that almost suffocated.   

They were covered in a mixture of dirt, smoke, and sweat.  Gasoline had spread on their clothing.  And _everyone_ had blood on their hands.  Whose blood exactly?  It couldn’t be determined from the chaos they’d just left.  From the chaos they were still in. 

Dirt.  Smoke.  Sweat.  Blood.  Gasoline. 

A mixture thick enough, making them feel like they were drowning in dread.  But it was the most pungent of odors that actually caused their mouths to salivate and gag reflexes to lurch. 

There was no relief.

Burnt flesh.

The _overwhelming_ stench of burnt flesh invaded the air, settling in, between their nostrils and throats.  No, there was no escaping it.  And it made the ability to try and compartmentalize what’d just happened, that much harder. 

* * *

All Wanda heard over her comms was the team in the field yelling, “Wake up!  Wake up!”

And then there was _silence_ , which only left everyone back at the warehouse in a panicked state too. 

What they couldn’t hear or see, was what was happening on the ground outside of Pierce’s estate.  Both vehicles, holding Tony and Steve’s respective groups, came to a screeching halt by the SUV that housed Thor’s team. 

If you could even call it an SUV anymore.  

Gasoline leaking.  Shattered glass everywhere.  Blown out tires.  And crunched metal. 

The SUV looked like it was well on its way to being crushed in a junk yard, or like it had been stepped on by a Tyrannosaurus’s foot in _Jurassic Park_.  The vehicle had rolled three times before landing on its roof.  Scratch that.  Before almost collapsing in on itself, on its roof…after the rocket from a goddamn Bazooka had been fired, exploding right below it. 

The good news?  If there was any…it was that the rocket hadn’t hit the SUV directly.  If it had, there might not be any remnants to look at, which was an unnerving thought that no one eve _dared_ to think right now. 

The bad news?  Gas was leaking from the SUV, and there were trickles of it on the road, leading all the way to the fire about 150 feet back, from where the rocket had exploded.  The fire was small in size but incredibly dangerous, as it threatened a horrendous thought.  At what would happen if the flames made the jump to some of those trickles of gasoline that surrounded it in the night.  

More bad news.  Tony and Steve could only see Rand and Murdock in the front seat of the SUV, pinned and upside down.  Sam and Bucky were yelling at them, “Wake up,” before their comms decided to stop working.  Rand and Murdock weren’t waking up though.

“Where the hell are Rhodey, Thor, and Maria?” Tony looked at Steve.  

Everyone else from the task-force poured out of the SUV’s, with half of them wanting to run off in all different directions, without a plan to search.  And the other half wanted to drive off to try and track down the SUV with the Bazooka.  

_Breathe.  Focus.  Triage._

Steve did just that.  He looked at Bucky and Natasha and Sam, who all came from the military, “Everyone listen up.  Bucky, Sam, Tony, and Castle.  You four work on getting Rand and Murdock out of the SUV.”

Steve turned to direct the next group, “Natasha, Jones, Cage, and Daisy.  Go towards the fire where the rocket hit to see if you can find anyone.  Clint, you’re with me.  We’ll work our way out from the front of the SUV, to see if someone was thrown that way.  And Hunter and Morse?  Go look in the ditches.  The hatch popped open, so Maria, Thor, and Rhodey must have been thrown out in the motion.”

Steve walked about five feet before saying louder, “Comms are down, but we stay calm and talk to one another.”  Everyone took off, looking relieved on the outside to at least have some direction and _purpose_ right now. 

But on the inside?  Steve felt like he always did in moments like these.  It was a mixture of fear and anger, forcing a panic that he had to repress.  It all made his stomach churn, but his years of training and muscle memory kicked in and he trudged on. 

The teams all went in their separate directions.  And the only thing that everyone heard during the first minute of searching, was Tony’s team trying to wake up Rand and Murdock, while they worked at prying open the crunched doors to the SUV. 

Natasha’s voice broke through first, “We found Maria…She must have been thrown out right away…No!  Oh my god.  Someone, get a blanket from the SUV, now.”

Maria had been tossed from the SUV.  The _actual_ horror followed as Natasha got closer.  The right side of her body…specifically the area from her stomach down to her knee, landed in the first puddles of gasoline, before gravity forced her to roll right through the fire. 

The flames ignited where her clothing was damp.  And Maria’s survival instinct kicked in as she rolled around in a frenzy to put the fire out.  It’d been only a couple of minutes since it happened, and she was awake again.  Shock was setting in as her body shivered and shook, and as she began crying out in pain. 

If Maria wouldn’t have been found before that moment, she would have shortly after.  Because her piercing screams poured out of her, acting as a call signal to everyone Natasha just shouted at.

Natasha swallowed heavily, feeling warm and sick as she came close.  First from the sight and sound.  It didn’t matter that Maria’s clothing had only been on fire for a short period of time.  The damage was done on her right side.  Her tac vest, shirt, and pants were all charred and fused to her skin where she’d been badly burned.  Natasha got closer and held back the visceral reaction as she noticed the revolting smell for the first time. 

Cage was there with a blanket as Natasha tried to talk, “Hold still, Maria.  It’s Natasha.  We have you.  Luke is going to pick you up and put you in the back of the SUV.” 

Natasha tried to brush Maria’s hair behind her ears, but her face twisted from side-to-side in torment.  She might have been moving, but she wasn’t in a state of consciousness right now.  Cage picked her up and Natasha wrapped the blanket around her right side as best as she could.  She immediately crawled into the SUV to start clearing space for her and then stayed right by her side as the rest of her search team ran off to help everyone else.    

Bobbi and Lance found Thor next, in the ditch right by the SUV. 

It wasn’t good. 

Thor was in shock for a couple of minutes, but he was awake and screaming now.  And threatening to do more damage than had already been done.  The explosion shattered the vehicle’s glass, turning it almost into a form of shrapnel, with a piece flying off and finding its way to him. 

It was gruesome. 

A large shard of glass was sticking out of his right eye as a discharge of blood and puss ran down his face and neck.  “Does anyone have any sedatives?” Bobbi yelled out, as Lance said, “A sedative?  How about a fucking horse tranq, Bobbi?  This guy’s _huge_.  How are we supposed to get him up to the SUV?”

Cage and Jones found them and helped, stopping Thor from rolling on his stomach which would have made it so much worse.  Cage lifted Thor under his arms as Jones yelled out, “We gotta lift you, big guy.  Don’t fucking move, or that piece of glass is going to get lodged in your brain, and then you’ll be dead.”

“Jesus Christ, Jones.  Could you be a little more sensitive?” Luke yelled at her. 

But it worked. 

Thor must have heard Jessica because he stopped moving, at least for a little bit, as his puffs of breath flared through his nostrils.  It was a team effort, but the four of them carried him up from the ditch and put him in the back of the same SUV that Natasha was in with Maria.  

Steve was yelling right on top of them, “Open the other SUV!  I gotta get Rhodey in the back of it, now.” 

Clint and Steve were carrying him.  He’d flown forward from the SUV and landed at a weird angle on his backside.  He was breathing, but he wasn’t awake.  And his left hip and knee looked like they were severely hurt from the angle his leg was at, “His knee doesn’t look right, Rogers.  Even through his pants.”  Clint’s eyes were wide as Steve looked over, “Quiet, Clint.  Let’s just get him to the SUV right now.” 

The three missing friends were found, as everyone grew quiet again, but it was far from silent. 

Natasha was trying to calm Maria, but she was constantly crying and whimpering from pain.  She was in a suspended state, where her body was awake, but she wasn’t alert to what’d happened yet.  That wasn’t the case with Thor.  He fucking knew what was happening, and was freaking out, violently shouting from the back of the SUV.  It was a horror movie come to life, and all he wanted to do was yank the glass out, but he knew he couldn’t.  

“Tony, what’s your status?” Steve asked nervously. 

Tony looked back at him, looking less than positive, “They’re jammed in here, Cap.  Murdock’s crushed by the steering wheel because the dash was smashed.  The airbags deployed, but it didn’t matter.  The front of the SUV looks like a dented tin can from where it first hit the concrete.”

“Got him!” Sam shouted.  He and Bucky finally cranked the passenger side door open as the metal groaned.  They cut Rand out of his seat, but Bucky stopped for a second, “Jesus, Sam.  Look at his hand.”

Danny instinctually tried to protect his face in the accident.  But his right hand landed outside the shattered window with the force of gravity as the SUV rolled.  Glass was embedded all throughout the skin they could actually see on his face and neck and hand.  But that was minimal, because his hand was broken in several places and was bleeding profusely.   And pieces of flesh hung off his bloodied appendage.  It looked like someone had taken a jagged saw to it in spots, from how hacked up it was. 

Sam and Bucky took in the macabre scene with a terrified look.  They could see actual bone in a couple of spots on his hand and his face was covered in blood, from the tiny pieces of glass that had cut and scraped away at it. 

They swallowed and shook off the chilling feeling crawling through them and carried him to the same SUV that Thor was in, laying him down right by his side.  “He must have knocked his head on the door or dash or something because he’s out cold.  But he’s breathing, Buck.  That’s the important thing.” 

Bucky listened to Sam and looked at his friend groaning in agony next to Rand as he put his hand on his boot, “Thor, I know you’re freaking out, but you gotta hold on for a little longer.  You can’t move because Rand is right by you, and you don’t want to do any more damage to either of you.” 

Bucky looked over the seat at Natasha and took in the image of Maria as they exchanged a concerning look, both nodding at each other supportively.  Through all the commotion, Sam hadn’t realized what happened to her either, until right then, “Maria?”  Sam sounded like he was the one who’d been injured.  Not the three people in the SUV. 

Natasha shut her eyes tight and spoke over the seat, “Sam, I know you want to stay here, but Steve needs you.  You guys go…get Matt out of the SUV so we can get the hell out of here fast.  I promise, I got her right now, Sam.”  Sam and Maria may have never taken the plunge romantically, during all their years of friendly flirting, but they were always _really_ close, and it sickened him to see her in as much pain as she was in. 

_Breathe.  Focus.  Triage._

Bucky pulled Sam away gently and repeated what Natasha just said, telling him that the sooner they got Murdock free, the sooner they could get the fuck out of there. 

Steve called everyone else over to the driver’s side of the vehicle.  Murdock was still pinned and they couldn’t get him out.  “Listen up.  We gotta tip it back over to get to him.  Everyone lifts and pushes on my count.  One, two, three!”

The remaining team members were lined up along the SUV, lifting on Steve’s count, until they were able to turn it all the way over.  Gas leaked over all of them in the process, as it landed with a thud on its popped tires.  Any remaining glass fell out of the vehicle and clattered to the concrete. 

Steve and Tony and Sam and Bucky tugged on the car door with all the strength they could muster.  30 seconds passed.  Then a minute.  Finally, after two minutes, they heard the sound of metal beginning to bellow as the door finally budged open. 

Of everyone they’d found, Murdock was in the worst condition.  The steering wheel was smashed into his chest, and he was wheezing heavily.  And on top of it, it looked like some gasoline had gotten into his eyes.  

Steve looked back at the other two SUV’s and knew they didn’t have much time.  The spot where the rocket had blown up was still on fire, and it looked like it’d grown since they arrived. 

_Breathe.  Focus.  Triage._

“Tony, take Matt to your SUV and lay him in the middle seat.  Our SUV has Natasha, Maria, Thor, and Rand already.  Sam, you drive.  Jones and Daisy sit in the front.  Rand is out cold, so he shouldn’t be too hard to contain, but I’ll be in the back helping Thor, okay? 

Everyone followed Steve’s orders and piled into his SUV.  He turned towards the others, “Clint, you drive the other SUV.  Bobbi and Lance, you’re in front with him.  Bucky, Castle…somehow, squeeze into the middle on the floor and try to help Murdock stay still.  And Tony and Cage?  You are in the back with Rhodey.  I don’t know how badly he’s hurt yet with how he landed, but you gotta keep him still.  It’ll be tight, but we gotta move.  I don’t know when Pierce’s men will be back, or if they will.  But even if they’re not, police will be on the scene soon.  Eight of us in my SUV.  Nine in yours.  Let’s move…Now.”

It’d maybe been 15 minutes since the rocket was fired, but that was all it took for the night to take a sharp turn.  Just as the SUV’s were pulling away, the fire found the gasoline trail, and spread all the way to the wrecked SUV.  A few seconds later, the second large explosion of the night shook behind both vehicles.  They all turned their heads around, realizing just how close their brush with fate had been. 

It had missed them by about 15 seconds.   

15 seconds.  15 minutes.  Seconds that felt like minutes, and minutes that felt like hours in the chaos they just left.   And now…they had to sit still, realizing how quickly things had changed and how quickly things _could’ve_ worsened. 

Jessica and Daisy were guiding Sam, who was leading the way and trying to stay calm and focus on the road…and not on his worry for Maria and everyone else.  And Steve was in the back end, kneeling by Rand as he tended to Thor on his left side.  They couldn’t communicate with the other SUV since comms were down, but they were caravanning back to the warehouse. 

He looked up a Natasha, and for just a second, her resolve fell as she met his stare.  Steve saw it.  Her eyes shut tight in that second that she let herself breathe.

But then Natasha remembered the whole purpose of this goddamn evening.  She frantically felt around inside her vest, remembering the USB drive she had.  It was still there.  Safe, right next to the small, Faberge egg.  Thank god, except she felt anything but thankful right now. 

Steve mirrored her and patted his chest quickly and nodded to her, indicating he had his drive too.  The drives were the only things that felt safe at this point, because Steve saw everything else rush over her in the moment.  The panic and guilt were obvious as her eyes shut tight for a moment and her lip started to quiver.  “Don’t, Natasha.  This is Poseidon.  And the closer we keep getting to taking them down, it’s only going to get harder.   _Don’t you dare try and feel guilty._   Pierce tried to blow up the SUV.  No one else.  And everyone is breathing right now.  So, don’t.”

Thor finally passed out.  Rand was still unconscious.  And Maria was whimpering through tired cries into the back of the seat as Natasha kept shushing her.  She reached over the seat to find Steve’s hand, and they took a deep breath together, through all the strong odors in the SUV and all of the swirling emotions inside their heads right now. 

They held on tight.  Yes, they were stronger together, and they would have to find a way to be _even_ stronger.  Because Steve was right. 

This was only going to get harder.  Their resolve was being tested, and they would have to stand tall, relying on their own strengths but also on each other. 

Stronger Together. 

That was what had been ingrained in them from the beginning.

* * *

**_12 Years Ago -_ **

_“What if you get shipped off to someplace like San Francisco, and I get placed in Idaho, Wanda?”_

_Loki was hiding behind a hay bale, holding onto his paint gun as he fidgeted with three gold rings that he often wore on his forefinger.  He stared at his friend in her long and loose ponytail, overalls, and clear goggles._

_“Loki, come on.  We’re supposed to be having fun today.  Without alcohol.  I know how hard that is for you and Tony, with how drunk you got everyone last weekend at Logan’s.”_

_“Okay.  Did I partake in one of our greatest nights out in history?  Sure.  Do I take personal responsibility for any of it?  Absolutely **not**.  Besides, I’m pretty sure you and Bucky had a good time.  And so did Rogers.”_

_Wanda couldn’t help it.  She laughed, remembering...or not remembering…their frivolously fun evening a week ago._

_Another week had passed since that night out.  Even though the trainees had access to Hogan’s Alley over the last week, they still had to keep their normal schedule of exercises, shooting practice, and classroom work.  And they hadn’t received any real information on what the week of actual testing would involve.  That was next week._

_Last weekend’s frivolity was felt for three days after the Scooby Gang’s shenanigans at Logan’s.  They weren’t going to do **that** again.  Not with testing around the corner.  _

_So, Steve convinced Tony…to help him persuade everyone else…to do something fun outside of drinking._

_“Since Cap here can’t handle his liquor, he **begged** me to ask all of you to help keep him, from getting too out of control this weekend.”_

_“Tony…”_

_“What, Rogers?  I can’t help it if you almost banged Red on the Quantico lawn for all of us to see.  Although, I wouldn’t have needed to see it, since I already saw plenty in the locker room…”_

_“ **Tony…”**_

_“Right.  Right, Rogers.  Anyway…I **guess** Steve has a point.  We probably shouldn’t start our testing at Hogan’s Alley, still trying to hold our vomit in.  So, what does everyone think about paintballing?”_

_That was Saturday morning._

_Two hours later they were all dressed in old and ratty clothes with pads underneath, ready to blow each other to smithereens with pellets of paint at a local farm designed for just that idea._

_And Loki and Wanda?_

_They were currently winning this round, only because they’d found a hideout where no one could find them.  They got so distracted by talking about the future, that they forgot their friends were all around them...in trees, on the roof of a barn, in tractors, lying in ditches…Everywhere but behind their random bales of hay.  And everyone else was shooting each other to pieces with splatters of red, blue, purple, and every other color of paint._

_“Loki, I’m not going to end up in San Francisco,” Wanda finally answered him from a minute ago._

_Loki scowled at her as he twisted the rings around his finger, “That? **That** is your answer…about me being worried about getting shipped off to the great northwest?  What the **hell** am I going to do in Idaho, Wanda?  Get dysentery from being on The Oregon Trail?”_

_Wanda couldn’t help it.  Loki was actually concerned, but his dramatization of said concern…was ridiculous.  She was cracking up at him now, “Loki, you’re **not** going to get dysentery.  I mean your covered wagon might get robbed, and you might have to live off of buffalo and rabbit.  But don’t worry, you’ll be able to find a lot to do there, I’m sure.”_

_Maybe it was the fact they’d been hiding for over an hour now, but she couldn’t help it as she almost buried her head into the hay because she was laughing so hard at the vein popping out of his head in annoyance._

_But she calmed down after a minute and asked, “Hey Loki, what are those rings you wear on your finger sometimes?”_

_Loki huffed out a breath, “My mother gave them to me.  She said one ring wasn’t enough for someone like me.  So, I wear all three sometimes.”  Wanda was trying to be better now as she smiled at him, “How’s she doing, Loki?”_

_Trying to hide the flicker of emotion behind his eyes, Loki tried to make a joke, “Probably about as good as Pietro.”  It fell flat as Wanda frowned and grabbed his hand.  She held it right where the rings lay for a few seconds, and he instantly felt bad and shook his head, “Sorry.  I didn’t mean that, Wanda.  I just…wish she would leave my father.  Just like I know you wish your brother could kick the drugs.  But that’s not how it works, does it?”_

_His mother’s pain and his father’s greed would only grow as the years went on after this.  Just as Pietro’s disease would worsen._

_Wanda smiled warmly as she squeezed his hand again, “No, it doesn’t.  And I’m sorry too, Loki.  If there’s anything to smile about though, it’s that…in a way, maybe your mother and Pietro helped us find each other.  Choices and paths and all...”_

_Always finding a way to break through Loki’s walls, Wanda managed to pull a smile out of him, “Are you trying to say we were fated to be friends, Wanda?”_

_The heavy moment was over.  And the light heartedness returned instantly as Wanda grinned at him, “Well of course…but you know, I guess we’ll have to start writing letters or something, since you’ll be in Idaho.”_

_Wanda couldn’t help it.  It was low hanging fruit, but she swung away and laughed again.  He scowled at her, deciding to get even one way or another._

_Loki stood up, ready to rat Wanda out to their remaining friends that were still surviving this round.  But apparently, Wanda’s laughter already exposed them.  Because Steve and Natasha were waiting on the other side of the bales of hay._

_“We’d say hands up, Loki, but the end result would be the same.”  Natasha gave a cocky grin to her friend and didn’t hold back as she blasted him with green balls of paint, all over his chest._

_Loki was about to tell Rogers to shoot Wanda, but Bucky already spotted her when Loki stood up, and he was chasing after her.  Steve turned to Natasha in her flannel shirt and khakis as she lifted her helmet, “Nice shooting, Romanoff.  But you know we’re going to have to go after each other once we knock out Tony, Wanda and Buck, right?”_

_Her grin transformed from cocky to suggestive, “Is that a promise, Rogers?”_

_Loki groaned, “Good god. **I am** supposed to be the one laughing at other’s misfortune.  Not Wanda.  And **I am** supposed to be making the sexual innuendos that cause people to blush.  Not you and Captain Serious Pants, Natasha.”_

_It wasn’t that they weren’t worried about what Loki was verbalizing.  They were.  But Loki had a flare for the dramatics.  And paintballing was the perfect cure for their stress.  The side of Steve’s mouth tugged upward as he looked at Natasha, whispering loud enough so Loki could obviously hear, “Am I Captain Serious Pants, Nat?”_

_Loki looked past them for a second, and then shifted back as he narrowed his eyes jokingly, “You know, your good looks and boyish charm…and beefy biceps will only get you so far in life, Rogers. **Some** of us are worried about actual important matters, outside of making googly eyes at their girlfriend.  Some of us have to worry about things like the entertainment scene in Idaho.  You know, where I’ll be exiled to in a few weeks, and never see any of you again.  You two are ridiculous.  And I say that as someone who has mastered the art of being ridiculous.”_

_Natasha lowered her gun since Loki was covered in green, “Aww, Steve.  Loki’s going to miss us when he’s in Idaho.  Maybe we should get him some absinthe for his going away party.”_

_Steve frowned, still convinced he could feel the effects from **that** night, a full week later.  He scoffed and then pulled his trigger, hitting Loki with his blue paint on his arm, “Consider that payback for slipping that crap into my drink, Loki.  That stuff made me act like a different person.”  _

_Loki looked past them again and was grinning now, feeling a little better, “That’s the point, Rogers.  Apparently, you should let loose a little more because you sure looked like you were having fun.  I think it only unleashed the beast from within.  We almost **all** got a preview of the Rogers - Romanoff show, playing tag that night.  I know I’d buy tickets to the full performance next time.”_

_Loki’s smile was even wider, and Steve groaned at his provoking remarks.  But Natasha stared at him suspiciously, “Loki, what is so funny all of a sudden?”_

_But he didn’t need to answer._

_Natasha and Steve’s expressions both went wide as they turned around.  Loki saw two big red splatters dripping down their asses as a result.  They’d been hit because Loki had distracted them.  Tony snuck up on the pair and caught them off guard, blasting them square in their rumps.  And Loki was **loving** it, “Wow.  Thanks, Steve.  Not only do I get to pay you back for shooting me a minute ago, but I actually feel a little better now.  That’s what friends are for, right?”_

_Now Loki was laughing as he asked, “Where’s Barnes?  I think he’s your only competition left, Stark.”_

_Tony scoffed, “What an **idiot**.  Bucky shot Wanda and felt bad.  So, he let his guard down to apologize to her.  If you can’t shoot your girlfriend, who can you shoot, am I right?”  Tony’s joke fell flat as he rolled his eyes, “Anyway…I took Barnes out right away.  I don’t think they minded though.  They’re probably rolling around in some hay loft by now.”_

_Tony looked smugly at Steve and Natasha, “But you two on the other hand…Boy oh boy.  I thought it would take more effort to bring down the great Steve and Natasha duo.  But with a little help of my good friend, Loki…It was too easy.”_

_Natasha turned around and threw a fake glare towards Loki, “So, what?  You faked being worried about being shipped off to Idaho, just so you could help Tony win?  What the crap?  I thought we were friends, Loki?”_

_Loki was full on laughing now, “Romanoff, you **just** hit me with your green paint.  You hit me, and somehow, I’m to blame because you were too busy undressing Rogers with your eyes to notice Stark approaching from the South.”  Loki lifted his finger pointedly in the air, “And let the record show, **I am** worried about Idaho’s form of dysentery.  But I’m an opportunist…you know that.  I always have been.  I saw Stark behind you.  You two were wrapped up in each other.  And I figured, why not take out my dear friends with me along the way.  If you can’t count on distrusting your friends in a game of paintball, when can you?”_

_Steve and Tony were laughing at something just between them as Natasha smirked at Loki.  It had worked.  Everyone was feeling better and a little less stress._

_And the rest of their friends came into view.  Thor and Maria were cracking up at Bruce, who had purple paint caked in his hair.  Sam and Rhodey were high fiving, as they walked closer from a barn where they’d been hiding out on top of.  They’d lost but felt like they won anyway.  And Wanda and Bucky came jogging over.  Wanda was shooing him off and picking out...yes, pieces of hay from her hair._

_It was the perfect relaxation that was needed as they all were joking and talking about who had the best hideouts and maneuvers.  Who had the best shots and aim.  And of course, who won the first round._

_Tony did, and he didn’t let it go unnoticed.  But the day was young as Steve yelled, “Round two.  Let’s see who can dethrone him.”_

_“Is that a challenge to bet on, Cap?”_

_Steve laughed at Tony, “Well, maybe Tony.  What are the wages?”_

_Tony had a glint in his eyes as he looked at Loki, “Absinthe!  If Steve loses, he has to drink absinthe again!”_

_Everyone laughed at each other’s jabs because it was the point of the day.  To keep their bodies moving towards the finish line, but also keep their minds busy.  To focus only on the present and not worry about past mistakes or future placements._

_And at this moment in time, with all of them in sweats and flannels and tattered clothes, with a rainbow of colors caked all over them, they were finding just what they needed…In a wide-open farm turned paintball field, where they were actually training for Hogan’s Alley without realizing it._

_Campfires.  Early workouts.  Lounging around.  Going out and having **too** much fun.  Stupid arguments that they found a way to work through.  And now paintballing.  On top of all of their tests and exercises and training and workouts and classwork.  _

_Each and every one of those memories had made them stronger together._

* * *

**_12 Years Ago -_ ** _Hogan’s Alley Week_

 **_Friday_ ** _:_

_“May.  Coulson.  You know the drill.”_

_It was Friday.  Fury sat with his lead instructors looking at 11 files, belonging to the trainees he’d been focusing on for quite some time now.  They’d spent the week testing at Hogan’s Alley.  And now?  It was assessment and placement time.  This afternoon they’d let the entire class know where they were headed after graduation._

_But first, he had to read the last piece of their testing this week.  Assessments written in 100 words or less by another assigned trainee.  Fury started going through them, one-by-one._

**_Maria’s Assessment, written by Sam:_ **

_Hill aspires to rise in the ranks, possibly even outside of the FBI.  Focus is needed on the present to continue to strengthen her knowledge and skills.  Above average in technological use, but has shown great improvement since arriving here.  She excels in tactical and hand-to-hand skills.  Hill comes from a family of law enforcement.  Loyalty and instinct are engrained in her.  These, along with being exceptionally driven, will only continue to make her a stronger asset and agent down the road.  The FBI will be stronger, together with her._

**_Rhodey’s Assessment, written by Bruce:_ **

_Being an FBI agent can be political at times.  Rhodes’ aversion to politics, may be a roadblock down the road that he’ll need to overcome.  He is above average with technology, but struggles in leadership roles at times, like myself.  But that is only because he excels as a teammate.  Make no mistake, James Rhodes served this country as a Marine, and he continues to want to serve in the FBI.  Service.  Duty.  Honor.  All words that truly make up this man.  Rhodes will be an excellent agent, and the FBI will be stronger, together with him._

**_Thor’s Assessment, written by Rhodey:_ **

_Thor is a physical presence, which is intimidating, but his actual strength is what can’t physically be seen.  He was raised by a family of fighters, but is well above average in the classroom and technology.  Communicating effectively will be an area he needs to continue to work on.  Thor is fierce, and even when he is tired of fighting, he finds a way to continue on, for his friends and family.  For his team and the FBI.  And for his country.  The FBI will be stronger, together with him._

**_Bucky’s Assessment, written by Steve:_ **

_James Buchanan Barnes is my brother and my best friend.  But that is not what I am writing about.  I am here to tell you that yes, he can be hot-headed.  And yes, he stubbornly challenges authority.  But while those can be his weakness, they can also be his strength.  His knowledge and skills in weaponry, tactical, and hand-to-hand skills are superb.  He is loyal to his team and loved ones, until the end of the line.  I would be lucky to have him as my teammate.  And the FBI will be stronger, together with him._

_Four files in, Fury narrowed his eyes in annoyance.  Not because the team didn’t impress him.  But because he didn’t like his mind games being disrupted.  But this group has been different from the get go._

_Specifically, the 11 friends formed a type of team chemistry that was too good to ignore, but it didn’t mean that Fury couldn’t be mildly irritated, “Let’s review the individual and team drills from earlier in the week.  I need a break from this sappy, ‘Stronger Together,’ crap.”_

* * *

**_Tuesday_ ** _:_

_After a weekend of paintballing and one last day to run through Hogan’s Alley on their own, Tuesday was here.  The first day of testing._

_There’d been an awful lot of tests leading up to this point._

_Constantly being monitored with running and physical fitness.  With weapons, coursework, and surveillance.  And with strength training, and shooting practice._

_And then specifically, there were the tests to build trust.  To push beyond their stress and exhaustion at TEVOC.  To hone in on individual strengths, but also improve on weaknesses.  And to learn through the mole test that sometimes, nobody wins._

_This was the last big exercise._

_The idea behind Hogan’s Alley was to show the result of their skills and knowledge from Quantico._

_Yes, next week they would have their final physicals, and written exams.  But before then, placements would come out.  And this final exercise - Hogan’s Alley - would play a big part in those placements._

_While trainees got to submit their top choices, it was really an illusion meant to distract.  Placements were based on skill levels and recommendations by Fury with the help of his assessment team.  And placements were always finalized right after Hogan’s Alley.  They were also based on where people were needed throughout the country._

_For example, ‘Agent Smith’ picked the L.A. office.  But L.A. wasn’t taking many rookies that year, **and** Agent Smith wasn’t at the top of his or her game.  Guess what?  ‘Agent Smith,’ would be shit out of luck.  _

_Agent Smith might actually get placed in a place like...yes, Idaho.  Just like Loki was worried about._

_In reality, the assignments for Idaho came from the Salt Lake City field office in Utah, due to lower population in the Northwest.  So, if someone **did** end up in Idaho, it might be even **less** active than what Loki was thinking.  And if an agent wanted to be in a lower populated and less stressful office when they were done?  Great.  There were purposes for those offices too.  And not every agent fit into one type of mold.  _

_Some people might want less action…But not them._

_Their group of 11?_

_They were **hungry**.  They were fresh and talented, both individually and as a team.  And Fury, May, and Coulson noticed that strength long before this week._

_Hogan’s Alley Week._

_Hogan’s Alley was the town within a town.  It was a fake community constructed over 30 years ago near the FBI Academy._

_The ‘town’ had a post office, a bank, a residential area, streets, a park, and a bar.  Hell, it even had a used car lot and a diner.  It was an actual small community, made-up of locals acting as ‘citizens,’ happy to help this year’s crop of agents, as they acted as victims, perps, and even the local barkeep.  And that was just the tip of the iceberg._

_It was almost like a movie set from a western movie._

_And it was all part of living in actual Quantico, VA.  The locals loved it for the most part.  It was part of who they were, and they took pride in getting to help each class going through the FBI Training program._

_The actual testing was the time for trainees to display the summary of their skills.  But as much hype as this week had.  And as much as the locals in Quantico, Virginia loved it.  It wasn’t Fury’s favorite.  It was a lot of pomp and circumstance if you asked him.  Sometimes, high ranking politicians would treat this week like a ‘Homecoming’ of sorts, and even visit to watch._

_How fucking annoying.  Fury thought it every year._

**_If_ ** _Fury was really hard pressed, he might admit that TEVOC and the mole test were his favorite tests.  He was in control then.  Fury…would say those tests pushed trainees to their breaking points, separating the strong from the weak.  The trainees would say it was because Fury just liked to fuck with them._

_But alas, it was protocol and tradition, going back decades.  So, Hogan’s Alley was a must, and it was last.  But the week wasn’t without merit.  And **this** year in particular, Hogan’s Alley was of more interest to Fury than others.  That was because of the 11 trainees he’d been watching closely.  _

_“We haven’t seen this type of team chemistry since Hunter, Johnson, and Morse from a couple years ago,” Coulson noted on Tuesday morning._ _May answered, “Yeah, but there was only three of them, Phil.  This is 11.  I know you don’t like to throw out accolades that much, Fury.  But you have to admit.  What we’ve seen so far from this group is…impressive.”_

_Fury looked at his two lead instructors skeptically, “Impressive?  They’re strong.  I’ll give you both that.  But let’s leave words like ‘impressive,’ for when they receive Knighthood from the Queen of England or the Presidential Medal of Freedom in the U.S., okay?”_

_Phil and Melinda both smirked at Fury.  He could act cynical and scowl all he wanted.  But they saw it in his eyes.  He **was** impressed, and was planning something big for them.  They just needed to stick the landing while testing.  _

_The testing which began today._

_Tuesday was Individual.  Wednesday, Partners.  Thursday, the Team.  The trainees had the objective to exemplify three things:_

  * **_Knowledge_** _to assess and secure the scene._
  * **_Skills_** _to arrest and protect innocent civilians._
  * **_Instinct_** _.  The X factors.  Showing they could sway from protocol when needed, and use independent judgement to make decisions while remaining calm if things didn’t go according to plan._



_The first two (Knowledge and Skills) were the foundation.  Instinct was the most important though.  Because honestly?  Things **rarely** went according to plan in real life.  They would all find that out soon enough.  Instinct was something that was innate, either strengthening or weakening in trainees throughout their time at Quantico.  _

_Fury looked to the group on Tuesday morning, “You will have multiple scenarios given to you individually today.  Do not make the mistake of thinking you can fall back on great teamwork or working with a partner if you lack in a skillset on your own.  Things happen when you’re on assignment, where you have to make split second decisions, and all of a sudden...you’re on your own.  The plan is out the window.  If you can’t stay alive and protect others on your own out in the field, what good are you on a team?  Don’t let me down.”_

_Fury walked off, leaving them stunned as Sam muttered, “Rousing pep talk as always.”_

_Loki turned his head to the left and right, “Is anyone going to ask, why we’re separated from the rest of the class?”  Tony scoffed, “Yeah, Loki.  I volunteer you.  Why don’t **you** let us know how that goes?  I for one, am going to shut my mouth today.  Who knows what Fury has cooking this week.”_

_Steve and Bucky smirked at each other.  They saw something in Fury that they’d seen in another man in their life - Colonel Phillips.  Both military men.  Both **ornery** , military men.  Yes, Fury was much more secretive and manipulative, but they recognized something in his voice just now.  As odd as it sounded, they recognized a twisted sense of…hope? Or at least a message within his message.  When he said ‘Don’t let me down,’ he shined a little light on that gruff cynicism, because what he was actually telling them, was that he expected something good from them.  _

_They were onto something, they just didn’t know specifically what it was yet._

_Natasha recognized it too, but in the back of her head, she had other voices playing._

_She would see Ivan and Oksana in less than two weeks at graduation.  And then she would tell them she was done.  That she wasn’t going back with them.  She could only hope that she was placed near Steve by that time, so she could find the strength to follow through with it._

_Steve’s voice drew her out of her own head as he gripped her knee, “You okay, Nat?”  She nodded back, “Yeah...I just want this week to be over...and next week for that matter.”  They stood up and joined everyone going out into the middle of Hogan’s Alley this morning.  May and Coulson would focus on the 11 of them while Fury navigated his way between the entire class.  “It’s all gonna work out.  You can trust me, remember?”  Steve nudged her shoulder playfully, “And I’m always honest.”_

_“Well, someone’s chipper for realizing how much is riding on the next couple of weeks.”_

_“Well, call me optimistic, but I just have this feeling that we’re gonna be okay.”_

_He didn’t let her fret.  Steve put his arm around her, “Come on, Romanoff.  I want to see you kick some ass out there today.  It’s time for you to shine since it’s all solo stuff today.”_

_She nudged him back, just as Bucky’s name was called first._

_Bucky’s individual drill was inside the fake grocery store, which didn’t look pretend at all.  The building was turned into an actual store.  Apparently, all the food would be sold and given to locals after this week was all said and done with._

_Stocked shelves, check-out lines with customers, and even fake employees were all inside.  Bucky had to stop a ‘customer’ (drug dealer he’d supposedly been following for a while) who was attempting to buy a large amount of Sudafed for making meth._

_The perp became angry and pulled a gun because Bucky was on the scene.  Bucky saw the man’s partner (who was disguised as his wife) leave the store.  He quickly apprehended the shopper, cuffed him to the grocery cart rack, patted him down and ran out to stop his wife.  Bucky chased her down by her car, and improvised, stabbing a tire with his knife, so she couldn’t drive away.  He took her down to the ground instantly as she got out.  A minute later, he had the man outside too as they were both read their rights and placed under arrest._

_The FBI **really** got into the make-believe aspect of each scenario.  Melinda May showed the car trunk to the group.  It was packed full of empty Sudafed boxes, showing that in the grand scheme of things, stopping the getaway vehicle was just as important.  _

_The morning was full of similar but different scenarios.  Bruce stopped a postal worker who’d been stealing individual’s mail.  Maria, Thor, and Rhodey each broke up a bar fight successfully without using their weapons, which was always a positive.  Tony stopped a man stealing a car.  Steve, Wanda, and Loki each stopped some local gang members from attacking innocent bystanders._

_The exercises seemed trivial and small to the group.  And while the 11 of them didn’t say anything out loud, their disappointment was shown with each roll of eyes and sideways glance._

_Coulson saw their skeptical faces, “Listen up.  You have to know and **prove** how to hammer a nail well, before you can build a house.”_

_The team all looked around confused, as May glared at them and spoke louder, “Assessing and stopping smaller scenes will fill up a lot more of your time, than the grandiose adventures you have in your heads, involving helicopters and exploding buildings.  If you can’t do the small stuff, you won’t be ready when those large and chaotic horrors happen.  You each did well, but check the attitudes at the door. **Each** life you save as an agent, is important.”  _

_The team had no idea how May’s words foreshadowed so many chaotic horrors in their actual futures._

_That left Natasha for the individual test, who was placed in the same location as Bucky._

_She looked around the grocery store.  Her assignment was simply to ‘Find and catch the gunman.’_   _He’d run inside from the street to try and lose law enforcement.  The fluorescent lights were bright as the soft elevator music played over the speakers.  Everyone was aware of the new drill, and was now acting as if everything was normal, changing the entire scene from when Bucky was inside.  The attention to detail the ‘locals’ and FBI put into this was beyond impressive.  Cash registers working.  Laughing and small talk commencing.  A supervisor telling a worker to rotate the fruit on display._

_But honestly?  Natasha didn’t really care about any of that right now.  She had a mission – determine which local was the gunman, and make the arrest.  She scanned the produce area.  Nothing out of the ordinary.  She peeked down the first two aisles of canned and boxed goods.  Nothing abnormal._

_More customers shopping, and a couple of workers, stocking shelves._

_Walking by the meat counter, Natasha smiled at each person working as they asked if they could help her.  She politely declined but noticed one of them flinch.  Like he’d been accidentally hit in the knee.  Like someone was hiding behind the counter and holding a fake gun to them._

_Natasha smirked and stepped back to grab a can of diced tomatoes off of an end display.  She tossed it off to her side.  The loud clang made the gunman stand up as Natasha pulled her gun and yelled, “Hands in the air.  This is the FBI.  You’re under arrest.”_

_Just like when Loki stood in front of her while paintballing over the weekend, Natasha didn’t hesitate.  The gunman didn’t listen and was going to try and shield himself with an employee turned hostage.  He was clear for another second, and that’s all she needed._

_Natasha took her shot._

_Green paint splattered on the man’s chest and the exercise was done.  The ‘citizens’ were safe and Natasha had stopped the gunman using her knowledge, skills, and most importantly, her instinct._

_She came out of the fake grocery store to the cheers of her friends who’d officially ‘checked their attitudes.’  And surprisingly, Melinda even smirked at her, “Nice work there, Romanoff.  Way to keep your head up to notice the little things.”_

_How far Natasha had come, from her initial tussle on the mat with May almost five months ago…_

_Steve looked like he was modeling for a dentist’s office with how wide he was grinning at her, “That’s my girl.  Way to kick a little ass.”_

* * *

**_Wednesday:_ **

_It was partner day._

_Since arriving at Quantico, almost five months ago, the trainees had an assortment of partner drills.  At times, they picked their own.  Others, they were assigned randomly.  And then there were times like with the driving test at TEVOC.  When they were assigned the one partner they **didn’t** want.  _

_So, who knew what Fury was up to today.  He stood in front of them inside the shelter house in the park of the fake town, “Sometimes, when you’re part of a larger team, you know your role and place.  That can have its advantages.  No man left behind.  There is no ‘I’ in team.  A chain is only as strong as its weakest link, and all of that type of bullshit.  You get my drift.  When you’re in a team, you all share in the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat.”_

_“Wow, inspiring words as always from our fearless leader,” Loki whispered to Wanda as she elbowed him to be quiet._   _“No, he’s right,” Tony leaned forward and added under his breath, “I mean, Fury really knows how to boost our self-esteem.”  Maria stomped on his foot and pointed at Fury.  Tony’s promise to keep quiet, didn’t even last 24 hours._

_Fury was glaring at both Stark and Loki as he went on, “So, when you’re working on your own...or talking on your own, when it should be **silent** , it’s all on you.  But when you’re with your team, and you just can’t seem to keep your damn mouths shut, you make everyone look bad.  Is that **inspiring** enough for you?”_

_Melinda and Phil had to look at the ground to hide their emerging smirks._

_Fury was laying it on thick, but it did the trick._

_Tony and Loki got the drift, sinking down into their seats as he continued, “As I was saying, while working on your own can be daunting at times, it can also create a sense of relief as an agent, because it’s **only** your ass on the line if something goes wrong.  But when it’s you and a partner, everything is shared.  Equal blame, equal glory.  Equal guilt and worry.  Equal planning and responsibility.  When you go into a store to catch a criminal that is trying to lose you…anyone that’s hurt in the store?  It’s on **both** of you.  And it’s also on both of you to keep each other alive.”_

_He took a breath and continued, “You’ve all proven you can work with the strongest and weakest partner we’ve paired you with.  I know you’ve all been trying to figure out what twisted way I’ll be pairing you up today.  Guess what?  It’s random. Think of it as a test run, because you have no idea who your partners will be when you find out your placements at the end of this week.  Rogers, you’re up first.”_

_Well that was like being doused with a bucket of ice water.  No one had to say anything under their breaths.  They were all thinking the same thing – Fury was making it random, because their partner could literally be anyone…in any corner of the United States. **Not** anyone in this group._

_May was holding a small tin canister with everyone’s names inside, “Obviously if you choose your own name, pick again, Rogers.”  May’s sarcasm was thick, even for her as he reached in and pulled out a name, “Thor, looks like it’s you and me up first.”_

_Rhodey yelled out, “Arm Wrestle!” as the rest of their friends snickered, remembering how wasted everyone was a little over a week ago._

_“Let us show off our strength in other areas besides our biceps, Rogers.”_   _Steve patted Thor on the back as they got their assignment – to stop a man in a homemade suicide vest in a crowded street.  There were about 20 locals all in place on the street, right outside of the diner and bank.  The man with the vest stood in the middle of the crowd shouting.  Steve shoved down actual memories under Colonel Phillips’ command, similar to this overseas._

_Steve spoke outside of everyone’s earshot to Thor, directing him to a rooftop, “As soon as you get a clear shot, where no civilians will be harmed, you take it.  Got it, Thor?”  Only the two of them knew where Thor was headed.  “You try to talk him down, don’t let my location be known, Rogers,” Thor spoke into his earpiece as he darted down an alleyway, making his way to a roof._

_It threw their friends, the locals, and the instructors off because everyone expected both of them to approach the man.  Rogers played the part of the lone wolf FBI agent, first on the scene.  “Sir, I’m going to put down my weapon, so we can talk.  You don’t have a gun pointed at me, and I don’t have one pointed at you.”_

_Steve talked calmly with the vested man for several minutes as he said his rehearsed lines.  Steve went on, “Why don’t we let some of these people go.  What would you say about that?”  The man acted nervous and raised his voice, and Steve raised his hands again, “Okay.  No one leaves.  I understand.  How about letting this pregnant woman and everyone else rest their feet, so they can sit on the ground at least?  Would you be okay with that?”_

_The conversation continued as Steve and the man were the only ones in the site of Thor’s rifle now.  While shooting wasn’t Thor’s strongest area, he was still pretty dang good, and he’d improved a great deal over the last five months.  Plus, the distance wasn’t that long, and it was daytime.  The point of the exercises this week, was to showcase that each trainee could execute a wide range of tasks and skills on the job._

_Steve’s voice remained calm, “Sir, are you okay if I tie my boot?  I don’t want to trip or for anyone here to get nervous and trigger happy.”  Up to this point, the man’s hand had been holding the switch, but he didn’t have it flipped._

_Kneeling down, Steve signaled Thor.  Just as the man caught on to what might happen, it was too late.   Thor’s yellow paint was splattered in two spots on the local’s chest.  He would have been dead almost instantly, but Steve finished the job…just in case.  He went up and took the switch from his hand and secured the scene, “Nice work, Thor.”_

_The assignments were more difficult than the individual rounds, but similar to Steve and Thor’s._

_Bucky, Loki, and Bruce tripled up.  They had to secure a bank robbery scene with three criminals.  They managed to do so without shooting any weapons.  Wanda and Rhodey had to save two children who’d been kidnapped and were in the park with their captors.  And Maria and Sam had to settle a domestic disturbance call, that turned out to be a home invasion by two gunmen.  They all handled the surprise element factors well and apprehended the locals without any problems._

_That left Natasha walking up to May as Melinda joked, “Well, I’m sure Stark would love to have his name called out.  But no need.  You two are up.”_

_Natasha and Tony were in a car, parked in the street on Hogan’s Alley.  The mission was simple – stop the two gunmen.  Two cars flanked theirs, and each had a gunman inside.  The two ‘criminals’ immediately started firing paintballs at their vehicle.  Lowering their seats to stay out of sight, Tony cocked his eyebrow at her, “As much as I’d like to lay here and chit chat about all of our hopes and dreams…what’s the plan here, Red?”_

_Natasha didn’t miss a beat, “Don’t get out of your side.  That’s what they’re expecting because it’s closer to the sidewalk, Tony.  Pop down the back seat, and crawl into the trunk.  I’ll pop it when you’re inside.  Then we can use the trunk and car as a shield **and** protect our feet.”_

_Tony nodded and did as she said.  He was in the trunk first, after rolling on his stomach and army crawling inside.  Natasha popped the trunk from the keys in the ignition, and Tony shot back at the gunman to his left, covering his partner.  Natasha made her way through the backseat, but opened up every door first to try and shield any angles to the gas tank.  She was right by Tony now, kneeling in the trunk and focusing on the shooter to their right._

_Loud gunfire played over a couple speakers in the street to add to the atmosphere._

_Tony grinned at her, “Nice thinking, Red.  Let’s change it up and gain the upper hand now.  Focus everything we have on my side; it’ll force the shooter to join his friend.  The I’ll box them in and charge at them from the left.”_

_Natasha nodded, kneeling behind Tony as they kept firing, driving the man to the left, farther and farther from his original position.  After a couple of minutes, he was forced right by the other shooter.  She shot at both of them as Tony had a moment of coverage and ran and circled around, closing in on the paintballing duo from behind._

_Within two minutes, the gunmen had their hands in the air and guns tossed to the side as Tony and Natasha made their arrests._

_For a pair of classmates that started off as natural rivals, turned to staunch competitors, they played off of each other smoothly.  It went to show how talented they were, yes.  But it also showed how much they’d grown as friends since arriving at Quantico.  “Nice shooting, Red.  You’re not so bad when you’re not trying to kick my ass or yell at me.”_

_Natasha laughed, “And you’re not so bad when you don’t give me a reason to yell at you.  Good idea on boxing them in.”_

_Two down.  One to go._

* * *

**_Friday:_ **

_“Hard arguing with Tuesday and Wednesday’s results, Fury.  You have to admit, it’s a good group to take a chance on.”_

_Holding strong with his own bout of stubbornness, Fury stared coldly at Coulson but avoided giving out any praises, “Who’s assessment is next?”_

**_Sam’s Assessment, written by Maria:_ **

_Wilson is ex-military, and it shows through his gifts as a talented trainee, supporting his team.  With help and encouragement, he will be ready to be a leader in the FBI down the road.  Weaker in technology, but makes up for it in his strengths in weapons, tactical, and fighting skills.  Consistent and reliable, which are invaluable in the field as an agent.  But above all, Wilson’s loyalty is irreplaceable and needed in any strong team.  The FBI will be stronger, together with him._

**_Bruce’s Assessment, written by Thor:_ **

_While Banner may physically not be the strongest trainee, his mental prowess boasts over all others.  His quiet confidence is a balance to stronger egos amongst teammates.  And while fieldwork may not be his end goal, the need within a team for a man as strong as him, is vital.  For Banner’s greatest strengths lie in his medical gifts, his psyche, and his knowledge.  The FBI will be stronger, together with him._

**_Wanda’s Assessment, written by Loki:_ **

_Maximoff doesn’t know how talented she is behind a computer.  When she steps out of the box, her natural abilities are even stronger than mine.  That is not an easy thing for me to admit.  She’s vastly improved with weapons and driving, but she’s weakest here and will need to practice in order to instill more confidence and muscle memory.  Beyond her specialty in technology, Wanda’s greatest strength is emotional intelligence.  Her value to the group cannot be overstated.  She is part of the glue, making a team chemistry like ours work.  The FBI will be stronger, together with her._

**_Tony’s Assessment, written by Natasha:_ **

_If anyone could write 100 words, regarding annoyances with Tony Stark, it’d be me.  Tony’s ego is his greatest weakness, and his greatest strength.  Yes, it makes him competitive, but it also makes him ambitious and wickedly talented in many areas.  I’m a witness to his growth and change since being here.  Change comes from opening up.  With friends.  With family.  He’s found that here, and he’ll find that in any field office.  His ego won’t give him another choice, for his strength vastly outweighs any weakness, and we’re luckier for it.  The FBI will be stronger, together with him._

_Coulson grinned after making it through four more files.  “Sir, I believe the team may have a plan with these assessments.”  May chuckled, “It seems that they’ve met your mind games with one of their own.  A mantra of sorts.”_

_Fury blew out a breath and tossed Tony’s file on the table, “They.  Are.  Exhausting.  What am I getting myself into with them?  Let’s review the last day – team day.  One **last** time.”_

* * *

**_Thursday:_ **

_The last day was here.  Team day._

_May gave the 11 trainees their file in the park shelter house.  They wouldn’t be split up.  The exercise would require everyone’s participation on this mission._

_While they may have been skeptical on Tuesday with more miniscule exercises, excitement and nerves ran rampant now.  And any competitiveness that got the best of them at times over the course of their five months at Quantico, was long gone in this moment.  They were hungry and ready, and wanting to showcase their strengths._

_May and Coulson had a little bet if there would be an argument over who would try and lead the exercise.  Fury ignored them, but was just as curious.  Teams needed leaders, and he needed to see what happened here._

_Everyone knew internally, who the leader of the group was.  Maybe due to natural positioning, or internal reasoning.  Or maybe…because it was apparent from day one._

_Some trainees may have had stronger personalities at times.  And somedays, this particular trainee was just as flawed as anyone else.  But it was obvious to the other 10 members of the group._

_The strongest personality belonged to Tony, but Loki had the gravitas.  Maria was the most driven, while best supporting player went to Rhodey.  Yes, Bruce had all the knowledge.  And Sam’s loyalty was something to admire.  Thor’s physicality was enough to intimidate.  Leaving Bucky as the fire and fury.  And all the while, the heart of the team beat with Wanda.  And when every skillset they’d been tested on was combined, it was Natasha who was the most gifted and talented overall.  For reasons unknown, except to the man, who was the leader, and unnamed so far.  Steven Grant Rogers._

_It was Steve who was a Captain in the Army, for similar reasons as to why he led here.  It was Steve, who tried to defuse and keep his friends on the right path…Who helped out struggling teammates at TEVOC, even when he and his girlfriend were in a knockdown, drag out fight.  And it was Steve, who found a way to break through Natasha’s walls, connect with her on the most uneven of paths, as they found their way through the murky waters of their past and present together.  It was Steve who got through to her, when she so foolishly downloaded files during the mole test._

_He was the one to be trusted.  The one who would still be trusted down the road, even after the secrets he kept were revealed, because people were drawn to him in a natural way.  It was Steve who was the moral compass._

_And the leadership role belonged to him._

* * *

_The mission._

_Knowledge.  Skills.  Instinct._

_Use their **knowledge** to surveil and secure a warehouse at the end of the street in Hogan’s Alley.  Use their **skills** to break in and apprehend the criminals, running a drug ring inside.  Rely on **instinct** when needed, and listen and look out for their team members.  _

_Tony and Steve stood in front of everyone as they reviewed the minimal details on their sheet of paper.  Stark looked at his teammate and friend, “Call it, Cap.”_

_Steve grinned and naturally fell into that leadership role, “Okay, listen up.  We don’t have computers, but neither do they.  But we should operate like we would in the field.  Maximoff, Banner, and Loki.  Cover the rooftops on the opposite side of the street, and use our earpieces and binoculars.  You’re our eyes and ears for everything you see outside, and from the aerial vantage point.  You can move out.”_

_The three of them did, and foreshadowed the positions they would be in, for years to come on the 42nd floor of the FBI building in New York City._

_“Hill, Thor, and Rhodey.  You’re casing the perimeter.  Guard the front and back entrance and circle the sides as you shift between them to provide cover for the windows.”_

_They moved out as Steve spoke to the remaining four individuals, “Wilson and Stark.  Once inside, you circle the interior perimeter of the floor.  We don’t know what the inside looks like yet.  If there is an upstairs, you will need to clear it.  Romanoff, Barnes, we cover the actual floor.  It’ll cause them to scatter, so everyone will need to be on the lookout.  Does everyone copy?”_

_Bucky, Tony, Sam, and Natasha nodded to him.  Everyone else responded with an affirmative over comms.  Steve opened the front entrance quietly and the five of them took to their positions inside._

_Fake guns drawn with colored paint.  Tactical gear on.  Team in position._

_Steve, Natasha, and Bucky waited behind two steel columns.  There **was** an upstairs, and Tony and Sam were clearing the open area as they circled the catwalk quietly.  They had already apprehended and ‘gagged’ two men watching from above.  “Clear up here, Cap.  We can see 12 people at six tables, sorting drugs downstairs,” Sam said as Tony added, “And there’s three men in the back office, counting cash.”  _

_Rogers peered around the column to take the site in and watched for 30 seconds.  Two people left their tables to go to the restroom, and Steve made his next move, “Stark.  Wilson.  Grab the two going to the bathroom, and then make your way to the office area to arrest the cash counters.  They’re probably the ‘leaders’ of this operation, so stay alert.  We’re going in.”_

_Steve led the way, “This is the FBI.  Hands up where we can see them.”  Natasha and Bucky fanned out to the sides, looking for any sign of guns.  No one on the floor had them, but they did try to run.  Three ran out the back where Thor and Maria were.  Thor held two with his arms as Maria chased the third down and tackled him from behind.  That local would be feeling their volunteer efforts for days._

_A fourth ‘employee’ tried to run out the front, but Natasha jumped up and put the man into a choke hold.  He was an actor and didn’t want to walk away with scrapes and bruises like the man Maria had just taken down would have.  He gave up right away._

_A fifth person tried to jump through break-away glass that’d been put into one of the windows, but Rhodey was waiting for him.  He’d caught the difference on his perimeter sweeps between windows, and predicted that the locals were told to jump out of that one._

_As they were cuffing and putting the other ‘workers’ in zip ties, the men in the office made their presence known.  They drew their paintball guns and started shooting right away at Stark and Wilson._

_Sam hit one of the men right away with his silver paintballs as he drew his gun.  But the other two men escaped into the warehouse, and killed the lights.  It wasn’t night time.  But their vision was diminished now._

_They’d utilized their knowledge and skills.  It was instinct time._

_Everyone else was cuffed and tied up, and two remained.  Wanda’s voice came through, “I can see through the upstairs windows.  One’s moving to the second floor.  One is staying in the shadows against the east wall.”_

_Thor, Rhodey, and Maria gathered all four people who tried to escape outside at the back entrance.  Rhodey watched over them as Maria and Thor came inside to help._

_The gunman in the shadows escaped through the front as Bruce’s voice came through, “He’s heading around the west side of the building.”_   _Steve nodded at Tony and Bucky.  Tony threw a brick through an actual window as glass shattered.  They were improvising._

_Tony cupped his hands to give Bucky a boost.  And Bucky cleared the shards of glass with his jacket, and was out the window seconds later, following Bruce’s directions.  He had the criminal cuffed within 30 seconds.  He joined everyone else at the back entrance._

_And then there was one.  He’d made his way back downstairs, but they couldn’t see him._

_Steve and Tony worked side-by-side, as Loki looked through his goggles, “Rogers, there’s too many people standing up.”_   _Steve yelled out instantly, “FBI team, on the ground, now.”_

_Everyone dropped to the ground, and Loki saw the one remaining figure standing, about 20 feet away from Tony and Steve, “Behind you, Rogers.  20 feet south.  Tony and you will walk right into him if you keep going.  Don’t get shot.”_

_Steve nodded at Tony, to spread out.  They did and told Loki to watch for any movement.  They came up from behind the guy who actually kicked it up a notch and tried to fight Tony and Steve.  He was a local and apparently was feeling pretty competitive because he was the last man standing._

_Tony kicked the back of his knees out but the man tried to fire his weapon anyway.  Steve shot him in the chest three times with his blue paintballs, without hesitation.  Tony laughed in the local’s ear, “Nice try, bud.  Maybe next time, you’ll have some less talented trainees come through though.”_

_The room was clear.  The mission done._

_Two men were shot out of 17 criminals, who both had their weapons drawn._

_Knowledge, skills, and instinct on full display._

_Fury, May, and Coulson were watching on their monitor from a vehicle in Hogan’s Alley like they were on a stakeout.  “Only two people shot in that warehouse?  That’s pretty damn successful if you ask me, Fury.”_

_Fury looked over at Coulson as May added, “Phil, when was the last time you saw a group of trainees come through here and actually make Fury try to hide his smile?  I think Morse, Hunter, and Johnson brought out a little twinkle in his eye.  But a threat of a genuine smile on a day like today?”_

_Fury finally chuckled at his two instructors, “I think I remember smiling at two pains in the asses that came through here about 20 years ago.  I also think it’s time for those **same** two pains in the asses, to get back out into the actual field.  If I’m going to take this team with me, then you two need to get back out there too.”_

_“Never one to stay on the mushy stuff, are you Fury?”  Phil looked at Melinda, knowing they’d already decided this would be their last go around at Quantico for a while.  If anything, these 11 trainees had sparked a missing feeling in them as well._

_Fury **finally** grinned at his two lead instructors, “Well, if you can’t count on your friends to call you out when you need it, what are friends for?  Speaking of calling out friends.  Let’s go break the news, that their week isn’t over yet.”  _

_Now that really brought the twinkle out in Fury’s eye – pulling another surprise on the group.  He had an extra pep in his step as he yelled at the 11 of them to come over to the park._

_May and Coulson were grinning and told them all good job, but Fury wore his scowl perfectly again, “You may **think** you’re done.  Or maybe some of you know me well enough to know…there’s always something more that can be learned.  You’ll have to assess another team member that we assign to you.  Same rules apply from the trust test a few months back.  100 words or less.  Not a syllable more.  We want truthful assessments, listing strengths and weaknesses related to knowledge, skills and instinct.  Tell us why your fellow teammate should be an FBI agent.  Some of you went easy on your friends a month in.  I would suggest you not make the same mistake twice.”_

_They all knew what the objective was.  To give praise when deserved.  To show they could be honest and raise concerns to superior officers.  To call out friends and teammates when needed, and have the thick skin to handle being called out._

_If Fury, May, and Coulson were all being truly honest?  The 11 of them deserved a hell of a lot of praise._

_The team **was** impressive.  And they were feeling high as a kite right now from kicking ass all week long.  _

_What Fury didn’t predict, was the little twinkle in each of their eyes too.  Would they be honest?  Sure.  But would they put their own little stamp on the end of their assessments, just like they’d put their own little stamp on Quantico over the last five months?_

_You bet your ass they would._

_They’d shown it all week long.  And now they were going to say it.  How strong they were, together._

* * *

**_Friday:_ **

_“Who’s left?”_

_Phil slid the remaining three files over to Fury, knowing that the decision was already made, and that this little ‘assessment’ exercise was Fury’s attempt to just be himself one more time with them._

_May let out a laugh, “You know, Fury.  You **do** get to keep riding their asses after this, since you’ll still be with them.  I’d think you’d be happier about that.”_

_Fury pursed his lips.  His last stand, against the emotions wanting to burst from inside of himself.  The struggle to be okay, feeling as…hopeful…about a group of individuals as he did, deep down.  Hope was not a word he ever used, nonetheless felt.  He was a man that was cynical, yes.  But his deep-rooted skepticism came from experience and harsh realities learned along the way in his life, starting with the horrors he’d survived in Vietnam as a fresh-faced kid._

_He picked up the first of the three remaining files:_

**_Loki’s Assessment, written by Wanda:_ **

_100 words is a hard limit for a man like Loki.  Is there an ego, acting like he doesn’t care at times?  Does he need to listen more and speak less?  Yes.  While those are weaknesses, his strengths outshine them, just as his personality outshines the sun.  He tests limits, which is needed for someone like myself.  His intellect and technological talents, are equal strengths.  But he’s also the flavor in our mixed bag of ingredients, with his cleverness and mischief.  He is irreplaceable.  Without him, we wouldn’t be us.  That’s why the FBI will be stronger, together with him._

**_Natasha’s Assessment, written by Bucky:_ **

_Romanoff is stubborn as hell.  She’s more trusting and has grown with us as a team, but still only really opens up to my brother.  Is that a weakness?  I’m not so sure anymore.  I think it’ll always be that way between them.  Believe me, I wish I could think of other weaknesses.  It’s infuriating how she kick’s ass at everything.  Athletic, deceptively strong, and scary with weapons.  Smart as a whip and she excels on her own.  You’d be a fool to not have her in the best field office.  The FBI will be stronger, together with her._

**_Steve’s Assessment, written by Tony:_ **

_You’re really making me do this?  Compliment, Rogers?  Let’s start with his weaknesses.  Romanoff…Full stop.  His stubbornness, annoyingly crushes any other shortcomings.  I believe, sometimes you gotta run before you can walk.  And following is not really my style.  But I relent.  I come in peace.  Because, somehow over these five months, I’ve found myself willing to follow Cap.  He balances out my need to act first, think later, and I guess that’s Steve Roger’s greatest strength.  Worming his way in, with his morality and heart.  You know the rest.  The FBI will be stronger, together with him._

_***_

_Fury wiped his hand over his face._

_He was still trying to not break from his façade, “Well, I know you two don’t have any objections.  Let’s go post the lists, and tell the class where their placements are.”_

_May and Coulson sat back in their chairs and smirked at each other as they crossed their arms.  They weren’t used to seeing Fury try to hide how impressed he was with anyone.  He never had to hide it, because he was **rarely** impressed._

_But somehow, this rag tag group of 11 trainees from all walks of life had done just that, as they found each other in the process._

_There are friends, and there is family.  And then…there are friends that become family._

_Over the past five months, they grew together in a transformative way.  They all desired to become an FBI agent, yes.  And they’d all bonded over shared experiences, past hardships and pain, and even some tragedies.  Some, much more than others.  And some, found love, both unexpected and life changing along the way.  But they also found a family amongst each other.  As they became a family of friends._

_It might be hard to believe that a group of 11 people could form such a unique bond over the course of five months.  But friendship doesn’t have set parameters and boundaries.  And it isn’t about who you’ve known the longest.  Friendship can be complicated, but at its root, when all the messiness is peeled away, it can be rather simple._

_Listen and laugh.  Learn and love._

_Friendship can truly be about who is in your life.  About proving that they’re there for you, when paths cross and time is shared, for however long that may be._

_On the mat or in the ring.  At the range or in the classroom.  Off-roading in a car, or taking a test behind a desk.  On a run or in each other’s rooms.  And at a bar or around a campfire._

_Whether it was any of those memories, or even now, in a fake town within a town…what they found, was that they were there for each other.  Listening and laughing.  Learning and loving.  And a true bond had formed.  A bond that would tether each of them together, even when their futures ripped them apart._

_May and Coulson recognized that bond.  The rest of their class recognized it too.  Fury even had to relinquish his cynicism for once, as a grin appeared again.  Because he recognized it too._

_They would all make great FBI agents.  They would all make a formidable team.  And no matter what lied ahead of them in the future, they would be stronger together as a family of friends._

* * *

**Present Day -** Task-Force Compound

“Where are they?  It’s been too long, Loki.”

Wanda was pacing around the meeting room. 

It was unusual for her to show how upset she was…to wear her worry on her sleeve like this.  But communication had been cut off for well over an hour now.  It would take the team that long to drive back here, yes.  But it was unnerving for her to have to sit here with no information, and just wait in the dark.  

Betty had Peter upstairs in bed.  Laura was sleeping in a chair, and Pepper was working on her computer to see if she could find anything online.  Loki nervously fidgeted with those same gold rings on his finger, that his mother gave him so long ago.  He looked over and saw Sarah standing in the doorway to the room, and gave her a concerning look.  Honestly?  He was looking to her for help. 

Seeing Wanda this frazzled was freaking him out too, and Fury was not getting any responses back from Ross right now.  Sarah took a big breath, calming herself, “Wanda, I know we don’t know specifics right now, but you have to stay positive.  James is with the absolute best people at their job tonight.  So is Steve.  If something happened, and they needed yours or Nick’s help?  Then they would’ve found a way to communicate with you.  Whether it was by pay phone, Morse Code, or carrier pigeon.”

Loki smirked at Sarah, who somehow managed to drop half of a joke, trying to stay positive.  He definitely noticed that she’d been referring to Fury as ‘Nick.’  It was something that was a rarity amongst the rest of the team, but Sarah _only_ referred to him by his first name.  

“Wanda, listen.  I hear a break in the static coming through on comms,” Bruce was trying to do something on the computer, and he turned the volume all the way up again.  

It was Steve’s voice.  He was coming in and out between the crackling sounds of their comms, “Wanda.  I keep...not getting response...I’ll keep trying...15 minutes away...injured...everyone alive...agents down…  …  ...Need medical help ASAP.”

Static again. 

Fury’s voice was stern and a little loud.  He was nervous too and was worried about what was going on, “Bruce, can you get ahold of Strange?  Not that I want more people to know about where we are, but he seems to have ways to get to places undetected.  Get him here ASAP, and see if he can bring any _trusted_ help.”  Bruce was on it as Fury kept talking, “Sarah, get Laura up, and try to get as many of the medical supplies ready as possible.  We have two gurneys available, but I think there’s also a few cots in the garage, so we can bring them inside.”

Sarah moved immediately to wake up Laura as Fury made his next directive, “Wanda, go make sure that little guy of yours is asleep and stays upstairs.  Betty will stay with him.  Maybe have him turn on a movie a little louder than normal.  He doesn’t need to see whatever happens down here.”  She ran upstairs, happy to have some sort of direction.  

Fury looked at his last team member in the room, “Loki, make sure all of the security checkpoints are in place. Triple check even.  Then clear a little space in the garage area so Strange will have space for whatever he shows up in.”

Fury was more or less keeping everyone busy because it was what was needed.  He went back to type out a message to Ross, to calm his own nerves because the truth was, he was worried as hell too.

* * *

It was actually about 30 minutes later when Steve and the two packed SUV’s pulled into the garage.  _Absolute_ chaos ensued as everyone helped carry in their five injured friends. 

Rhodey and Murdock appeared to be the most severely injured.  Maybe not in the most pain right now, only because they were both still unconscious.  That was clearly Maria.  When Steve carried her in his arms, he had to put a little pressure where her flesh had been so badly burned to keep her in place.  And she let out a blood curdling scream, haunting enough, that it made the entire room’s skin crawl. 

It made everyone pause for a second, but Bruce and Sarah took over.  Bruce directed Murdock and Rhodey be placed on the gurneys.  And Sarah told the team to put Maria, Rand, and Thor on the cots. 

Thanks to Tony, the warehouse was well equipped.  Thanks to Laura and Sarah, the medical suite they’d organized over the last several weeks, was already prepped.  But as good as all of that was, the medical demands, _clearly_ outmatched the supply right now. 

Gurneys.  Medication.  IV bags.  Sheets and blankets.  More heart monitors.  More oxygen tanks.  More gurneys.  More, more, more.   Tony was on the phone with Happy Hogan immediately, ordering additional supplies for the compound that Sarah was rattling off rapidly to him.

Anyone with _any_ sort of first aid training was assisting at Bruce’s orders.  “Sarah, Morphine for Thor, Rand, and Hill.  Start them small with small doses to get their bodies accustomed.  And get them all sedated, because we need to get an IV in them ASAP and clean their wounds.”

Triage.

Everyone was fighting their own nerves right now, and soaked up any orders Sarah and Bruce and Laura gave out, feeling relieved to have some sort of purpose. 

Sarah called over Sam and Bucky, and Steve and Natasha to assist her.  Laura waved Wanda over to hold Murdock still as she cut his shirt away and then Rhodey’s pants to get a better look at what they were dealing with.  She was calm until she got Murdock’s shirt off.  Hesitating, she stood back for a second.  Laura looked up and glanced over to Clint.  She told him with her stare to get Matt’s team away from the area. 

But they were not in the mood to be coddled, “No, Barton.  How about you fucking tell me what she’s not.  What’s going on with the kid and Murdock?”  Castle was angry.  Not at anyone in the room, but at how screwed up the situation was, and that Poseidon had them against the ropes right now.  Cage tried to calm him down, but Jessica spoke louder, “Clint, what the hell is going on?  What was with that look Laura gave you?”

The look was clearly, showing worry.  Murdock’s chest was a deep purple, almost black.  Gurgling sounds bubbled from the back of his throat, from the severe internal bleeding.  The smell of gasoline lingered in the air from the task-force’s clothing, and Matt’s eyes, which Wanda was trying to flush out right now.  The fuel had trickled onto his face as the SUV rolled, and the steering wheel had crushed his chest, his body showed the result.   

Tony hung up his phone and nodded at Loki.  They needed to help Clint calm his team as Stark spoke, “Jones, I think the look was serious enough to know, that we _need_ to give them all some space.  Nothing good is going to happen from watching like a hawk.  If we can’t directly help, then we need to help how we can.  Let’s get into the meeting room so Loki can start going through the drives Steve and Natasha have.” 

Tony got done talking and looked a little wild…they all did.  He turned back to Pepper who gave him a quick smile of relief.  She was so thankful that he was okay, but now wasn’t the right time for a romantic embrace.  It was the same look that Wanda gave Bucky across the medical area.  

Everyone else was corralled into the meeting room and got to work, for no other reason than to keep their minds busy right now.  

And Laura was still looking at Bruce as he was trying to assess who needed his help the most right now.  From the appearance of Matt’s chest, it was obviously him.  “Okay Sarah, as soon as you sedate Rand, Maria, and Thor, come back over.  Work with Wanda to start figuring out what’s going on with Rhodey.  There’s deep bruising all over his stomach and left side and back.”

Bruce had his scrubs on already and looked stressed as he looked to Laura, “It’s clear Murdock has a cracked sternum and ribs.  I don’t know what’s been punctured inside him, but it is _severe.”_ Banner listened to his chest with his stethoscope, “Blood is pooling in his lungs.  We need to drain it _immediately.”_

Laura ran over to the counter for supplies and grabbed the needle and tube for the thoracentesis that Bruce was going to perform, “Laura, hold him still.  We got to get his breathing under control, then we can medicate and move forward.”  Murdock was out cold, but Laura placed and arm on his forehead and on his stomach, just in case. 

Bruce stuck the needle into his chest, and 30 seconds later, they both breathed a sigh of relief as Murdock’s breathing immediately improved.  It wasn’t great.  But it’d improved.  The tube that was inserted, successfully decreased the pressure in his chest cavity.  

“I leave you all for a few weeks, and _this_ is what happens?  My god, it’s amazing to me that you all manage to put one foot in front of the other most days.”

Dr. Stephen Strange’s voice rang through the air as Tony brought him back to the medical area, “Strange, I’ll say this once in my life, so enjoy it while you can.  Your voice is literally music to all of our ears right now.”

Strange nodded at Tony as his mouth tugged at the corners, “Stark, you even managed to make this place somewhat livable.  I’ll give you that.  But your medical suite is no five-star hotel, I hate to tell you.”  Tony smirked at Strange’s quip as he went back to the meeting room. 

Stark smiled at the two other women behind Strange as the Doctor introduced them to everyone helping Banner.

“Laura, Sarah, Dr. Banner.  This is Dr. Helen Cho, and Dr. Jane Foster.  They’re as trustworthy as anyone here.  I spoke with them at a medical conference in Las Vegas two weeks ago, and I invited them up last week to begin a study on eastern medicine practices and how they might benefit the west.  We should all be thankful for my knack of _impeccable_ timing, since they can serve as reinforcements, just like you requested, Banner.”

They might’ve yelled at Strange, to stop his soapboxing, but they didn’t have the chance.  He was talking, _endlessly_.  While putting on scrubs, washing his hands, and while handing Cho and Jane their garments as well.  If it were a lighter time, someone might’ve suggested that Tony would need to leave the premise because Strange’s ego rivaled his. 

But no one said a word, because they _needed_ Strange’s help.  He looked around the area and shook his head in dismay, “Well, ladies.  I think we’ll have to make do, won’t we?  Dr. Banner, I see you’ve administered pain medication to the patient with burns, and the eye and hand injuries too.  Good.”

Strange stepped over, in between the two gurneys that held Rhodey and Murdock, “ _And_ you’ve already performed a thoracentesis.  _Well done._   Laura, I hope you haven’t been too bored here.  I have my iPod in my coat jacket.  Why don’t you take a five-minute break, and get fresh gloves on after starting my music?  Then I can get to work.”

Was he arrogant?  Yes. 

Might some people even take how he was talking to Laura as demeaning?  Absolutely.  But it was how Stephen Strange operated.  Honestly?  Laura was used to it.  She smiled, and was actually relieved to get a minute to collect herself.  She threw her gloves and mask in a red hazard bag and plugged in his iPod to a portable stereo from the kitchen.  Janis Joplin’s voice was serenading them within five minutes.  

Strange took in everyone else next, “Romanoff, this is all very _‘pay it forward’_ of you.  You receive medical help, and now you’re giving it.  Well done, but you’re officially relieved.  Same with you, Maximoff.  And Wilson, Rogers, and Barnes…I regret to inform you; your services are no longer needed.”  

Steve looked over to Sarah and she shook her head, “This is _our_ job, Steve.  James, you too.  You all go clean up, so you can do _your_ jobs.”

Fury stepped out of the meeting room and nodded at Rogers.  He held up his hand to him, indicating to take five minutes, just as Laura had.  Wanda and Bucky went upstairs quickly so they could go check in on Peter and Betty.  Sam cleaned up in one of the downstairs bathrooms, and Steve and Natasha went up to their room.  

The door shut, and Natasha immediately started shaking, feeling everything that’d happened over the last couple of hours.  The weight of the inevitable guilt came rushing back. 

Steve took off his long-sleeved shirt and came over and grabbed her hands right away, “Natasha, you listen to me.  _Please_.  Everything that’s happening downstairs right now?  It’s not your fault.  It isn’t Clint’s fault.  It isn’t my fault _.  And I_ was the one giving orders tonight.  I was the one who told Tony to figure out a way to delay Pierce.  And it wasn’t because you asked me to.”

Natasha’s forehead creased as she looked up, “I practically begged you to stay in Pierce’s mansion, Steve.  If I wouldn’t have…”

Steve pulled her head against his chest, “If you wouldn’t have done that, do you know what we would have ended up with tonight?  _Nothing_.  I don’t know what’s on those drives, but if it was hidden behind a fake bookshelf, inside the Secretary of Defense’s mansion?  I’m sure it’s pretty big.  I gave the order to Tony, because it needed to happen.  And _you_ helped that happen.  We’re all a team, and we’re stronger together, remember?”

Natasha finally took a breath as Steve held her tight, “Besides, Natasha.  Even if we would’ve left in time, and Thor’s team wouldn’t have delayed Pierce, he would’ve found the house staff and guards.  And then we would’ve had a different problem on our hands.  We wouldn’t have any intel, and they’d be searching for us now.  And his asshole with the Bazooka might have still found us.”

Natasha knew Steve was right.  Even more so, she knew she needed to pull herself together, because there was no rest for the weary or the wicked.  Poseidon was going to keep going no matter what, and the task-force needed to as well.  The important thing, was that Thor and his team were receiving the medical help they needed right now, and the best thing the rest of the team could do was to figure out the rest of Poseidon’s plan.

She let herself have a minute of just being held as Steve ran his hands along her spine, “Nat, we’re all in this together.  No matter what happens.  We stay focused on taking Poseidon down, before they cause any other harm in this country or the world.  We take them down, for what they’ve done to you and Clint your entire lives…We take them down for our child.” 

Steve squeezed harder for a moment as she wrapped her arms around him now, “And we take them down for our team, and for our friends and family downstairs.  Every single person down there, wouldn’t hesitate to repeat tonight, Nat.  Because it’s the job.  Just like that warehouse mission when the guy had his gun on you.  Just like when we took down Wilson Fisk and his men at the strip club.  Just like every fucked-up mission in the Army and Navy.  It’s the job, and we have to dig in right now.”

Natasha held Steve a little tighter and found that strength in herself that they brought out in each other.  _Stronger together_.  It didn’t just mean in the field.  It meant in moments like these.  They grounded one another and calmed each other’s nerves when it was needed.  And right now, Natasha was the one needing it.  She nodded her head, “Yeah, let’s clean up and get back downstairs.”

* * *

Loud voices travelled up the stairs as Steve and Natasha were coming down them.

Apparently, it was a party at the warehouse.  A morose party with five members of their team being treated in yet another, makeshift hospital that was off books.  

Steve held Natasha behind him for a second, because Clint was yelling.  And so was Fury.  But not at each other.  The situation had gone from bad to worse, because Secretary of State Thaddeus Ross, was standing outside of the conference room, inside the Warehouse compound.  He was by himself, but his face was as red as a tomato. 

He was livid and had come in, ready to fight, “Fury, you and your goddamn team have really screwed the pooch on this one.  I’m sure Miss Potts will find out soon with her PR connections…the news headlines for tomorrow are starting to drop soon.  And it’s _not_ just bad.  It’s a fucking nightmare.  And it’s all because of Barton and Romanoff’s people.”

“They’re not our fucking people, you asshole.”

“Barton, quiet.”  Fury tried to regain control of the situation, but tempers were running hot as Ross continued, “Fury, you can try to protect this group of misfits all you want, but I’ve had it.  I went along in the dark, quietly, while you did your search and discovery.  But do you know what kind of heat I have on me right now?  Sweden and Australia were attacked.  The FBI was _attacked_ in New York.  The President is demanding answers, and the response?”

Fury looked back at Steve and told him with his stare to keep Romanoff away right now.  Steve backed her up to the second floor.  Everyone was talking more than loud enough that they could hear Ross continue to speak, “Damn, Fury, you don’t get it.  _You do it first, or you do it better_.  Pierce beat you to it.  He has _no idea_ that you have intel, but it doesn’t matter.  Sitwell’s in the wind...and Rollins was killed.  And I’m sure Ivan and Oksana have been in Pierce’s ear non-stop.  He was suspicious tonight after everything at his mansion, and decided to strike first.  He’s trying to snuff you out.”

Fury stepped in front of Clint now as Ross kept going, “Pierce spoke with President Ellis tonight.  He said _you,_ Assistant Director Nicholas J. Fury, are not only alive, but you’re in hiding with your team.  And that you’re playing for the other side.  He has some grand story he’s concocted about you and your special ops team working with the ‘traitorous siblings,’ Barton and Romanoff.  He said their international ties from being on the run for the last seven years, caused a backfire in Kazakhstan.  And that they’re working with some middle eastern terrorists now.”

A couple seconds of tense silence passed before Ross almost yelled, “Fury, they’re framing you and your _entire_ team, setting you up as terrorists because you don’t have _any_ proof.”

Clint yelled back, “What about Sitwell, and the data?  And the Lemurian Star?  And Stark Industries?”

Fury pulled Barton away from Ross, but repeated the question as Ross shook his head, “Jesus, _Nick_.  You just don’t get it.  That’s all conjecture and circumstantial evidence at best, which doesn’t play well in the papers.  You want to try and convince the American public with what?  Thousands of data points that show contact to Russia, but with no specifics or explanation behind them.  Some phishing emails that tracked porn on Sitwell’s home computer.  And some vague ties to an off-shore holding company for money…that what?  Happen to have two men tied to it from Stark Industries?  I hope you’re all laughing inside, because it’s damn funny if you think the American public will believe _that_ after the media twists it all around.  It all looks minimal compared to…”

Everyone else poured out of the meeting room now, and Sarah pulled the curtains closed on the medical suite while Laura cranked the music a little louder to drown them out.

“Compared to what, Ross?” Fury demanded. 

Ross glanced around and saw a room full of pissed off task-force members glaring at him.  He got defensive and spoke in a harsher tone, “Compared to the entire file that Poseidon sent you, seven years ago on Barton and Romanoff.  It’s been sent to the major press publications.  The New York Times.  The Washington Post.  The Wall Street Journal.  _All of them_ have the same information.  _Hard evidence_ with photographs, of Barton and Romanoff in Russia.  In Kazakhstan.  In the Ukraine.  They have the evidence that Romanoff and Barton broke six Russians out of their transport from Rikers Island, seven years ago.  And that they stole intel from the FBI that included plans for the building in New York.  It sets you all up _really_ nicely because that same fucking building was attacked in case you forgot.  Fucking data points? You’ve gotta be shitting me.”

Tony was getting involved now, “You arrogant son of a bitch.  You think we don’t know the building was attacked, Ross?  We were in the goddamn building when Pierce’s terrorist friends shot it to hell, and tried to kill us!  Where the hell were you that night?  Oh, that’s right.  You were with _your_ #2, who disappeared.  You were with Sitwell, who happened to be working under your nose for years... _for Poseidon_ , without your knowledge.”

The gasoline had just been poured on this fire.  Emotions were volatile and Clint jumped on Tony’s words, “You want to talk about blame, Ross.  Look at yourself, asshole.  You let Sitwell into the State Department, for years!”

Fury tried to step in again as he shut Clint and Tony up, “So what’s your play here, Ross…Are you going to shut up and keep quiet to protect your own hide?  That sort of shit didn’t help in Vietnam did it?  It’s why we set out on the paths we did.  To try and protect this country.  Pierce obviously went down a different road than us.  So, are you going to do what’s easy?  Or are you going to act like the soldier you were back then, and actually fight for what’s right?”

To say it was odd to have _The Rolling Stones, ‘Paint it Black.,’_ playing in the background, was putting it lightly.  The music played over the tension and their booming voices as the entire task-force stared at Fury and Ross.  They looked like they were about to hit each other.  The concoction of sounds wasn’t just odd.  It was fucking weird, and made the huge compound feel tiny with all the emotions being hurled back and forth.

Ross was pacing, and pissed off.  They were all upset, but Ross was out of his element, and was looking for an easy target to blame right now as he bellowed out, “This is all because of Barton and…”  Ross looked around and narrowed his eyes, “Where is she?  Where’s Romanoff?”

Steve’s heart was beating fast as he tried to stop her, but Natasha was enraged after hearing everything.  She’d already slipped by him.  Her emotions were about to boil over, and with good reason.  The world she was forced into for her entire life.  The world that kept her away from her brother and Steve and her family.  The world that took her child from her, and tortured her for 21 months.  And now, the sadistic world that was trying to turn the _entire_ fucking world against her, and frame her and everyone here for their evil doings. 

It sickened her.  And it took her anger and hatred, and elevated it to an entirely new level.  But more importantly, it pissed her off to an extent, that it shook any guilt she was feeling, right out of her system.  Natasha came down the steps ready to fight, “You have something that you’d like to try and blame me for, Mr. Secretary?”

The tone of her voice could send shivers down someone’s spine.  It did…as Ross looked up at her, but he deflected and blamed, and placed all of his frustrations on her, “The world’s being threatened, and you think all is forgiven?”  She was right in front of him, standing by Fury with Clint on his other side.  Steve stood right by her too as Natasha looked at Ross with fire in her eyes, “I’m not looking for forgiveness, and I’m _way_ past asking for permission.” 

Steve jumped on her words, “We’re all here to fight.  To fight the _right_ people.  To protect this country.  If you wanna stand in our way; then we’ll fight you too.”

In a rousing moment, that didn’t need any direction, every person in the room who wasn’t trying to help out their five injured friends, came and stood behind Clint, Fury, Natasha, and Steve.  Every single one of them.  And they all mirrored Natasha’s glare towards Ross.  

 _Stronger together._   

Natasha held back tears in her eyes, feeling every bit of strength and encouragement from her friends and family, new and old.  

Ross glanced back between Fury, Steve, and Natasha, before he spoke directly to her, “Let’s not forget, Romanoff.  You _did_ betray this country and this team.  You betrayed the FBI seven years ago.  There are consequences for those actions.”

Stubborn as always, she was _not_ to be trifled with right now. 

Natasha stepped forward, “You want to arrest me?  Let me tell you, you can threaten me all you want.  Arresting me would be fucking _paradise_ compared to what I’ve been through over the last two years…over my entire life.  I’m here, trying to stop the actual people who killed innocent Swedish and Australian and American citizens.  I’m here, trying to prevent further attacks.  All I can see you doing, is trying to save your own ass.”

Natasha pulled her phone from her back pocket and flipped to the photographs she took earlier at Pierce’s mansion, “Take a good look at this photo, Ross.  Do you see who’s in it with Pierce?  It’s Ivan and Oksana.  Let that _sink_ in.  The people who’ve been forcing our actions for most of our lives.  The people who tortured me for almost two years, because I did the right thing in Kazakhstan.”

She looked at Steve for a second before the raw emotion crept into her voice, “They murdered a very good man, right in front of me, Ross.  They _murdered_ my unborn child.  And that’s only the tip of the iceberg.  And Pierce?  He’s fucking worse than them.  He’s more insidious, more hidden, and has much higher prospects.”

The room was thick with emotion, and Wanda had tears in her eyes.  So did Steve.  He was proud of Natasha for finding her voice in the most difficult of times.  But he was _so_ hurt and angry, just like her.  And his heart was crying out inside of him as he listened to the pain in her voice.  His heart, that’d been scarred over and over again, from the pain of losing her.  And then their child. 

And then and then and then. 

For so long, there was more pain than his scarred heart could hold.  But not now.  Now, he looked at her in awe and that image of a phoenix flashed through his brain with how brave she was.  With how strong she _always_ was.        

Natasha took a shaky breath and flipped to the other picture on her phone.  The one of Fury, Pierce, and Ross from their Vietnam days, “Now take a look at this picture, Ross.  You see those three men?  Three soldiers who were fighting for their country in a far-off land?  _Look_ at it.  Doesn’t it piss you off, knowing that one of those men, has sold his country out?  That he’s trying to see his country burn?  Don’t come in here and tell me about hard evidence.  It’s bullshit.  My _entire_ life, and the few memories I can actually remember from the last two years, are hard evidence.  Pierce is rotten, and he wants to watch the world burn.  Because he believes in Poseidon’s manifesto and teachings.”

Ross was shaken.  It was apparent as he looked at the photo of him, Fury, and Pierce.  That wasn’t why Natasha took it.  She took it because it was right by the other photo, of Ivan and Oksana.  But it was doing the trick right now.  

Surprisingly, Tony came to Natasha’s defense next, “Ross, instead of wrongfully focusing all the blame on Natasha, why don’t you take a step back, and realize how scary this shit actually is.  Clint and Natasha have been controlled and picked apart their entire lives.  Sitwell slid under your radar the entire time you knew him.  Two men I’ve known my _entire_ life, Justin Hammer and Obadiah Stane, who’s my goddamn godfather by the way, have been supplying Poseidon with weapons, through _my father’s_ company.” 

Rawness was everywhere as a quiver found its way into Tony’s voice, “So, let’s all acknowledge Poseidon’s ties run far and wide, and we’ve all missed something over the years.  But Natasha?  And Clint?  And their band of merry mercenaries?  Two of whom sustained _severe_ injuries tonight, along with three of our friends and teammates…”

“Tony,” Natasha started but Tony waved her off.  This was a long time coming.  The guilt and the blame?  They could go to hell, right along with Ross, if he wasn’t going to recognize what was actually going on here.  If he wasn’t going to actually stand up and do what he could to help, “Ross, you’re right.  It is _only_ because of Clint and Natasha, and their team, that we’re all standing here.  And thank god for that.  Because if they wouldn’t have stopped the money transfer in Kazakhstan, almost two years ago…Poseidon would’ve probably already attacked.  And who knows how many people would be dead.  Instead of blaming Clint and Natasha, you should be _groveling_ at their feet.”

This was hitting too close to home for _everyone._  

For Tony, it viscerally hit him because of his father’s company, and the involvement of Stane and Hammer.  It didn’t matter that he wasn’t responsible for Stark Industry’s weapons being the tools Poseidon used to wreak havoc.  This was fucking _personal_ to him. 

Steve cleared his throat and took over, “Mr. Secretary.  It is only because of Natasha and Clint, that we still have time.  They stopped the flow of cash two years ago, and now we have time to try and take a stand.  To try and avenge what we’ve all lost.  Are you going to let us do our jobs and help?”

Ross looked at the team, standing…to _avenge_ what was lost.  Standing against him and anyone else that stood in their way as he looked at Tony, “How were you guys planning on beating Poseidon?”

“Together,” Tony took a step forward.

Ross huffed out a breath, “And if you lose?”

“Then we’ll do that together too,” Steve stepped right by Tony as Natasha followed him.  Loki.  Bucky.  Clint.  Wanda.  And everyone else, took a step forward, showing how unified they all were right now. 

Ross looked over at Fury, who was right in the middle of his team.  His family. 

Ross thought of the photo that Natasha showed him.  Fury was right.  There was an easy way out of this.  The news outlets would all have incriminating evidence on Natasha and Clint.  And the media would jump on the 24-hour news cycle, shaping the conversation into, ‘ _Homegrown Spies on the Run, Return to Seek Revenge on America.”_ Or something like it.  Ross could almost visualize the loglines tomorrow morning.  The headlines were writing themselves.  Yes, it would be easy to fall in line.  But it wasn’t right.  It was the _furthest_ thing from right.  

For the first time in this heated conversation, Ross relented from the team that was standing strong before him.  He took a step back, physically and emotionally, and tried to cool off, “Look, I know what you’re saying is true.  But you realize you’re going to have everyone gunning for you now though, right?  They’re going to try and convince the military that you’re _all_ enemies of the state.”

Steve wrapped his arm around Natasha’s waist as Fury stepped back into the conversation, “Ross...you and I?  We aren’t dead yet.  We have a lot of friends in the world and in the military.  I say it’s time we start calling in favors and pulling strings.  They might try to shape the narrative, but we have enough people that will stand and fight along with us.  We just have to know when and where to fight.  Loki, what have you found on those drives that Romanoff and Rogers recovered?”

Loki grinned, “Well, I didn’t want to be rude and interrupt this nice reunion here.  But Secretary Ross, your thoughts on there being no hard evidence?  We have it.  Rogers’ file has Poseidon’s history.  Ross isn’t in any of the intel, so I’m afraid his narrative to the media and any frame job he’s put out there…is going to do the trick and get the American public on his side.  Media is a finicky thing…But it does have everything on Ivan and Oksana.  Their camp where they raised their own little Manchurian Candidates.  It has people they’ve killed…money they’ve stolen.  It has other operatives in the states.  And yes, it has everything that Clint and Natasha have done too...”

The fact that Pierce protected his own name from being attached to any solid evidence didn’t surprise Natasha.  And at this point, she could care less about her information being out in the public.  She had her friends and family, and she had Steve in her life.  That was _all_ that mattered right now, “What about the drive I had, Loki?”

Loki winked at her, “Even better, Natasha.  It has the plan of attack, scheduled for a week from now.  At all the main military academies, and at Quantico and Langley, just like Natasha predicted.  But it has the locations overseas too.  In Europe, Asia, Africa, South America, Australia.  Six continents including America.  Six plans to take out the major defense systems within those areas.  But the U.S. by far, is the most targeted with several points of attack.”

Fury interrupted, “We can’t wait to attack them when they’re planning to strike all of the academies and Quantico and the CIA.  We don’t have the weapons or manpower.  We have to hit them at their base of operations.”

Loki took a step closer to Natasha and Steve as he continued, “Well, that’s the thing.  Not everything is on the drives.  The bad news?  Wherever their base of operations is at…it’s not on the drives.  We don’t know where their little army of assholes is hiding out at…or where all of their weaponry is at either.”

Two steps forward, one step back.  They had a lot, but they didn’t have what they needed most.  Loki didn’t miss a beat to try and cheer up the room, “But…there’s more good news too.  I mean, you could frame it as good news at least…”

“Loki, spit it out,” Fury sighed.

He shrugged and looked back at Steve and Natasha, “Well, the good news…remember how I put a hit out on the dark web for any criminals that might want to help take down Poseidon?  We got some responses.  Some lower level criminals that I encountered over the years who are resourceful and can help eventually.  Valkyrie.  Skurge.  Korg and Miek.  The Grandmaster.  And the Collector.” 

Natasha raised her eyebrow at him, and he shrugged his shoulders, “Natasha, they’re criminals.  They’re not going to go by the name John Smith.  But that’s not my point.  The ‘good news’ is that _another_ person contacted me.  Or at least, he had someone on the outside contact me for him.  You’re not going to like it, but I think we need to do it.  His message was simple.  Visit him at Rikers Island, and he’ll help us find what…and who we’re desperately looking for.”

“Jesus Christ.”  Steve muttered it, knowing what Loki was going to say next.  So did Natasha.  They _knew_ exactly who Loki was talking about as he continued, “Even though he’s incarcerated, he’s still _very_ connected.  And the truth is, if what he says is true?  It’ll be well worth the visit.  We need to know where Poseidon is hiding and where to strike, because Fury’s right.  We can’t defend every place they’re planning to attack…we don’t have the resources.”

Loki sighed as he finally finished, “The criminal we need to meet with is Kingpin himself…Wilson Fisk.”

Wilson Fisk was brought to justice eight years ago.  He was ruthless, and New York City was safer each day that passed without him on the streets.  But he was still connected, even after being locked up.  Steve squeezed a little harder around Natasha’s waist, “We _cannot_ trust Fisk…Wait, what do you mean, ‘we,’ Loki?”

Loki chuckled, “Always perceptive, Rogers…First, _we_ don’t have a choice.  We’re up against a ticking time bomb.  If he had someone contact me, he knows something.  And second…Fisk made it clear.  He wants to see the three of us.  You, me, and Natasha.  We’re going to need to move quickly though.  I say as early as tomorrow, because as soon as news breaks about all of us, our faces are going to be plastered all over the news, and it’ll be harder to sneak around.”  

This was just the cherry on top. 

Steve didn’t like the notion of meeting up with a man like Fisk again.  He hadn’t even thought of Fisk in years, because he’d been locked away for life.  But their backs were against the wall, and they were running out of time.  Steve didn’t trust Fisk.  But he did trust Natasha, and she nodded at him, agreeing with Loki.  If there was a chance that Fisk had the final piece to this torturous puzzle?  Then they needed to suck it up somehow, and find a way to make the meeting happen.  

They ended their conversation at the moment because they heard Dr. Strange’s voice.   

* * *

It’d been close to an hour since Strange had arrived, and he and Bruce came out of their little hospital suite to give everyone an update, “Aren’t you the Secretary of State?” Dr. Strange started, but waved him off, clearly not caring at all about whatever dramatics were going on outside of his medical area, “Well Stark, looks like you are going to get your wish.  I’m going to be staying here for a little while.  I _will_ have my own suite and bathroom, I trust?” 

Tony was baffled at the arrogance coming out of Strange’s mouth, but nodded anyway as he continued, “Great.  Well, the good news is that all five of my patients are alive.  But they’re going to be out of commission for your night watching, or watch dogging, or whatever it is you’re doing.”

Fury sighed, “Dr. Strange, that is the least of our concerns right now.  We want to know how they _are_.”

Strange stared at Fury, and waved his hand in the air, as if to say that he was getting to that part, “Murdock is in critical condition, and I need to perform surgery to repair the damage to his lungs and chest cavity and liver inside.  His eyes were damaged from the gasoline.  We don’t know to what extent yet.  Rand’s hand will need several metal rods screwed in permanently for broken bones that are beyond repair.  The tall one...Thor?  The glass is out of his eye.  He’ll need an eyepatch for some time...We don’t know if his vision will be okay or not yet.”  

“Rhodes’s hip was broken in three places, and his femur in one.  _And_ he has two slipped discs on his back, but he is one _lucky_ man.  Because he was within a breath of having his spinal cord severed, but with a lot of physical therapy, and a _much_ less physical job, he’ll be okay.  And Hill?  She’s going to have a _very_ painful recovery.  Burn patients often experience an excruciating amount of pain.  But she _will_ recover.  Laura and Sarah are treating her wounds right now.”

In a rare moment of being genuine, Strange spoke a little quieter, “I heard how you prevented the rocket from hitting their SUV directly.  You all saved their lives by doing so.  And you saved them _again_ , with your quick thinking and getting them back here as soon as you could.  Good job.”

Right as Stark was about to say something about Strange having a grace and humbling presence for once, the Doctor spoke again, “Now, Stark?  We’ll need you to get your supply chain manager for this place on the phone ASAP.  Some of these materials are average at best.”

Mostly everyone else filed back into the meeting room as Steve held Natasha back.  They heard Ross go up to Bruce.  It was too bad Banner wasn’t with them earlier, because with their history and Ross’s non-existent relationship with Betty, they could tell that Ross was intimidated by Bruce.  

“Don’t even think about trying to see her, Thaddeus.  If you _ever_ want to have her in your life again, you need to let her come to you.  Not the other way around.”

That was all Bruce said as he returned to the medical area.  Ross looked over at Steve and Natasha and shook his head before he walked towards Fury muttering, “I’m the damn Secretary of State.”

Loki was talking with Wanda as Tony came over to Steve and Natasha, “I’m putting Pep in charge of supplies.  She can work with Strange…I can only take so much of his hot air.” 

Steve let out a breath as Natasha looked at him, “Tony...I don’t know what to say about what you told Ross.  I…”

Tony sighed in relief too.  It’d been a long fucking day and night, on top of a long couple of months…and years.  He smirked at Steve and Natasha.  Two people who he’d been natural competitors with in his life.  But they were also two people who he considered family, and loved very much, “Hey Red?  We grew apart sure.  But that doesn’t change where we started.  We all grew together at Quantico, and have a _hell_ of a lot of history.  So, whether we like it or not...our roots will always be tangled.  And I for one, am glad for that.”

Natasha smiled at him, trying to hide tears that were trying to fall, “That almost sounded poetic.  Are you trying to prove that Tony Stark actually has a heart?”

Steve was grinning too, and Tony shook them off, “It’s all Pepper.  Without her, I’d still be that asshole, trying to best you at Quantico.  But all of our history?  Roots and all, we’re stronger together because of it.  I see that now.”

Natasha went up and kissed Tony on the cheek, pulling him into a hug, “I for one, am glad for that too, Tony.  Thank you.”

Tony was in rare form.  They all were, feeling each sincere word and thought.  With everything weighing heavy, he hugged her back before he and Steve went into the meeting room, leaving Wanda, Loki, and Natasha alone.

Loki was fidgeting with his pointer finger, pulling his three rings off as he grinned at the women, “You know…you probably remember how much I used to wear these.  But after everything that happened…Well, I pretty much stopped after my mother died.  But…I don’t know.  There’s something about being around everyone.  Around the two of you again…”

_These fated paths._

It wasn’t just Steve and Natasha, or Wanda and Bucky.  It wasn’t just Loki with his best friends that he was around once again.  It was _all_ of them.  They’d grown as a family of friends through their own choosing as they began at Quantico, which felt like an entire lifetime ago.  But somehow, over the last two months almost, they’d all found each other again.

The three of them were back in each other’s lives now, realizing the foundation that formed years ago, was still there.  And it was as strong now as it was then.  Strong enough to last…through almost anything.  Loki sharing something so personal with them, after the day they had, only made their hearts feel a little warmer.

Wanda looked at Natasha as Loki placed a ring in each of their palms, and kept the third for himself, “You two helped me find a reason to put them back on.  To help me remember the good times with the bad…To remember my mother in her good times too.  I don’t know, this all has me feeling rather sentimental.  Maybe she gave me three, because I was meant to give two away.  I want you both to have one.  Stronger together…or something like that…”

Natasha was able to hold it together with Tony, but she felt a few tears fall now.  So, did Wanda.  No matter what happened in the past, they were here now, as friends that became family, and Loki just surprised them with his rare moment of sentimentality.  Natasha lifted Steve’s chain around her neck and placed the ring on it as Wanda slid hers over her thumb.  And the three of them joined in a hug as they smiled at him, “Yeah Loki, stronger together.”

* * *

Many hours later, it was well into the _early_ morning of the next day.  The absolute insanity and chaos inside the compound had finally calmed down. 

Ross had taken off, fully understanding what the plan was for the task-force and what his mission was…to get through to President Ellis and delay any nation-wide manhunt for Fury and his team.  For at least a week.  Pierce’s goal in leaking the false narrative to the press was obviously, to misinform the nation and public.  To put the spotlight on the team, using Clint and Natasha as scapegoats.  All the while, Poseidon would be gearing up for an attack in a week from now.   

People were doubling up in rooms, to create space for the new arrivals staying at the compound now.  And the four Doctors, along with Sarah and Laura, were all exhausted.  Their stamina was tested tonight, but they’d made it through. 

As Strange said earlier, everyone _was_ alive.  Murdock’s surgery was successful, but his vision couldn’t be assessed yet, and it would be a long road to recovery for him.  But he was stable.  As for Rhodey?  He’d had corrective work on his back performed, and a steel rod put into his femur.  He also had a brand new hip that’d been happily delivered by Happy.  Rhodey’s entire left side was pretty much bandaged up, and Pepper and Tony were right by his other side, sleeping in two recliners.  

Rand’s cuts were all cleaned, and he had steel rods put in his hand that had a cast on it now.  Thor looked like a pirate with puffy gauze in place of a patch.  He’d woken up and knocked over the small table next to him.  Dr. Foster was taking the first night shift and was at his side, trying to help him. 

And then there was Maria. 

As Strange had warned - her injuries may have not been the most serious internally.  But superficially, she would struggle with immense pain.  She’d woken up once screaming about an hour ago, and they gave her a stronger dose of Morphine, knocking her out again.  Sam looked like he wouldn’t be getting any sleep as he rested beside her bed.    

Most everyone else had gone to their rooms.  It was going to be a hard few days of planning, with going to see Fisk and trying to figure out every last detail before they preemptively made their moves against Poseidon.  Clint gave Natasha a big hug, “You were awesome against Ross, Tasha.  A lot cooler than my hot-headed ass.  I’m proud of you for sticking his head where the sun don’t shine.”

Natasha grinned against him, “How many metaphors can you fit into one sentence, Clint?  Thanks for sticking up for me...for all of us before I came downstairs.  It never gets any easier, does it?”

He chuckled, “If it were easy, Tasha...everyone would try and take down a world terrorist organization, and cram into a warehouse turned into a hideout.  I’m gonna go sit with Murdock and Rand for a bit.  See you in the morning.” 

“And Laura too?” Natasha smirked at him as he shook his head muttering what a pain in the ass she was.

That left Wanda and Bucky, who had brought Peter downstairs finally.  They got him a glass of milk and sat with him in the living room, trying to show there was nothing to be scared of.  That everyone was there, and even some new friends were too.  He ran right into Natasha and Steve’s arms, “Nat, I did it.”

Steve held him as Natasha cupped his face, “What did you do, Peter?”

He gave a big yawn as he held onto his sippy cup of milk, “I helped.  I read a book with Pepper and watched a movie with Betty.  We had a… _summer_ party.  I helped.”  Wanda grinned over at Natasha and mouthed, “Slumber.” 

Natasha smiled and looked up at Steve as his face softened, feeling so grateful that everyone was here and alive.  They were tired and hurt, and five of their team members were severely wounded and had long roads ahead of them.  But they would get through this, because they were stronger together.  

In that moment when he met Natasha’s eyes, Steve finally let his heart relax.  He finally let himself breathe again as he took in her appearance.  He brought Peter into a big bear hug as Natasha kissed his cheek, “I’m proud of you, Peter.  You did such a good job.”  And then he was off to sit on the couch with Wanda and Bucky for a little while.  

It was odd. 

After hearing hours of classic rock, a long and bellowing argument between the Secretary of State and all of the task-force, and all of the noises from surgeries and planning that evening…for it now to be quiet.  The only sounds in the air were soft beeping heart monitors, whispers between parents and their toddler, and murmurs in the meeting room as Fury and Sarah talked and had a late-night (very early morning) coffee. 

Yes, it was odd, but so incredibly peaceful after a day of chaos and worry, for Natasha and Steve to be going upstairs.  The bedroom door shut, and just like before, Steve pulled her into an immediate hug.  But this time he was the one shaking a little.  The day had caught up to him. 

The what if’s and almosts. 

The near misses of the rocket, and how close they were to carrying five bodies back, instead of five wounded friends.  The impact of the intel that they’d recovered.  And the stand-off with Ross, as Natasha stood up and stood tall with a fire in her heart and her friends and family at her back. 

Steve looked at her like he’d come within a breath of almost losing her again tonight, because that’s how he felt.  And in truth, it was that close. 

But everything settled between them as he held on tight.  It’d been almost two months since Loki had been arrested, turning Steve’s world upside down.  He’d never been so grateful for such a chaotic time period, because he was staring at the woman who’d changed him 12 years ago, and continued to change him right now.  She impressed him with her strength, and calmed him with her resolve.  Just as he did with her.  

_Their fated paths._

A term Steve thought of when she was in a coma…when the beautiful words in her journal, bombarded him with all of the pain and heartache on each page.

But their fated paths represented more than just pain. 

It was as if they were meant to find each other, 12 years ago.  Because even with all they’d been through and lost, they stood here now, together.  Yes, with pain, but with love too, guiding their way. 

 _So much love_. 

There was no question.  Steve and Natasha _were_ meant to find each other.  And part of what was lost, was found again.  And surviving this first mission out in the field together, reminded Steve of all he had to gain with her.  

Natasha squeezed around his waist tight, “Hey... _hey_...Steve?”

Leaning back, she looked up at his intense stare, like he was trying to memorize every last moment, “I’m right here, Steve.  So are you.  We’re all here.”

Steve let out another breath, and kissed her forehead as she led them to bed.  They didn’t even bother changing out of their clothes they’d thrown on before.  They just needed to lie down.  She pulled the blanket over them as she curled into his side, “Are you okay with what we’re going to plan tomorrow?  Going to see Fisk?”

Steve pulled her in tighter as he kissed her forehead again and then her nose this time, “Not really, but I have to be, Nat.  But it has me thinking back to when we took him down.  About a year before you left…”

The fact that Steve and her could mention things like when Natasha left, showed how much they’d grown over the last several weeks. 

They’d avoided talking about anything from their past that could open up wounds, when Natasha first woke up.  But they didn’t avoid now, nor did they want to.  Old wounds would bring pain, sure.  But it brought those tangled roots that Tony talked about to the surface too.  It brought wonderful memories of the love they formed and shared.  And they needed those memories, to battle painful ones they’d have to live with forever too. 

“Yeah, it has me thinking to when we took him down too, Steve.”  Natasha kissed his beard and nuzzled into his side, “We were stronger together back then, and we will be tomorrow too.”  

* * *

**_8 Years Ago -_ **

_The door to Steve and Natasha’s apartment slammed shut._

_Bucky sat down next to Steve on the couch as they both nursed their injuries.  He winced as he took off the sling that Bruce had given him.  His left shoulder and arm were pretty banged up, and the bruising was hideous.  And Steve’s left knee was bandaged under his pants.  The bleeding had stopped a few hours ago, but the dark red stains on his torn jeans were a reminder of the scraped-up flesh underneath, and just how ugly his swelling and bruising were too._

_The pain was evident on both of their faces as their hands kept trying to massage the minor injuries.  At least minor in physical terms._

_Natasha walked in behind them, first.  And Wanda brought up the rear.  She’d been the one to slam the door, “Thanks Natasha, for letting us come here since it was closer.”_

_Yes, the physical pain Steve and Bucky felt, was nothing compared to the worry inside of them.  Worry about the tongue lashing they were about to receive from their girlfriends of four years.  The mission was over and successful, but the remnants from the last three weeks were still more than evident in the space between the four of them._

_The mission?_

_It was designed to be simple._

_Simple…Even though no one on the team especially liked it. **Especially** Bucky and Steve.  The team planned to infiltrate one of Wilson Fisk's new strip clubs, believed to be his ‘home base’ of operations, in order to collect incriminating evidence and bring him down.  _

_Drugs and sex trafficking were a disease in parts of the city because of men like him.  But most of all, it was his thuggish behavior, leaving bloodied and beaten corpses of his competitors, enemies, former ‘employees’ and really, anyone that got in his way, scattered across Hell’s Kitchen over the last several years.  His operations were small-scale and isolated mainly to New York.  He wasn’t even on the FBI’s most wanted list, nation-wide.  But to locals and to the actual FBI in New York City?  He was the number one criminal they wanted to take down, and had been for years._

_Fury’s talented team finally had a strong lead that a big operation was happening soon.  So, they planned and planned.  And yes, it was designed to be simple._

_Natasha and Maria would start working at his latest ‘club’ as waitresses.  And the rest of the team would trail them the entire time.  If there was even a whiff of worry observed through their surveillance, Steve and the rest of the team would swoop in on a moment’s notice._

_Steve didn’t like the mission from the start, but he knew better than to try and let his concern out of love show.  And that tiny little hint of jealousy he felt inside?  Jealousy because Natasha would be traipsing around in a skimpy waitress outfit at a strip club full of ogling men…yeah, Steve **definitely** wasn’t going to let that show either.  _

_Because his concern truly wasn’t about that.  Steve just didn’t like it, when Natasha was in the field without him.  It was unnatural, and he felt uneasy about it from the get go.  But still...he couldn’t deny that jealousy had reared its ugly head deep inside either._

_For Bucky?  It was more or less the same at the end in a way.  But how things ended and how they began were vastly different._

_Three weeks prior to the Brooklyn Boys nursing wounds on Steve and Natasha’s couch, when this godforsaken mission kicked off…Bucky was in a different place mentally, because Wanda wasn’t directly involved._

_Hell, Bucky even tried to reason with Steve at the beginning, when everything was supposed to be so damn simple.  The night before the mission started, just the two of them went out for a couple drinks, and Steve revealed his concerns to his brother, “I just hate it when we’re not out there together, Buck.  And I’m not particular fond of the idea of men watching her as she gives them drinks like they’re watching a stripper either.”_

_Steve’s smooth jawline was clenched as he sipped on his whiskey.  Bucky shook his head and tried to tell his brother how ridiculous he was being, “Steve.  Come on, man.  If any guy tries to get handsy with Natasha, she will literally slice their fingers off.  You got nothing to worry about.  Her and Maria are perfect for this assignment.  They got this.”_

_Yes, it was easy for Bucky to say that to Steve, with all the logic in the world.  Because he didn’t have to worry about Wanda in the same way…then.  She would be safe and sound, back on the 42nd floor of the FBI building, observing from afar like she usually did.  But in an operation like this, ‘simple’ becomes complex, and rapid changes occur in the blink of an eye.  And that blink of an eye happened the very next day, on the first day of the mission._

_Day one, Maria and Natasha entered the club called, ‘King Pins.’  Apparently, originality in club names was not Fisk’s strong suit._

_After years of success as the crime lord of Hell’s Kitchen, the local media and people of New York referred to Fisk as Kingpin.  The FBI hated the name.  A massive man with a bald head was leaving trails of body in his tire tracks, literally and figuratively, and the alias only made him seem like some comic book character._

_Apparently, Fisk liked the nickname though.  And the fact that the alias rubbed his success and the failure to arrest him, in the FBI’s faces?  Well, it was all the sweeter for him._

_Fisk hired Romanoff and Hill on the spot because they’d dressed the part.  High skirts, tall leather boots, eyeliner for days, and low-cut tank tops, more than sealed the deal._

_But Fisk made it very clear from the start.  He had **one** rule for them to follow, “No men you know are to be here.”  The club was for his people.  His constituents.  His buyers and dealers and men in the area, to pour money into his trough of tawdry pleasure.  _

_“If I find you fighting with jealous boyfriends.  Yelling with friends.  If I even catch you chatting it up with a former male boss that happens to be here?  You’re out.  If someone comes in here that you know? You tell my men, and they’ll get them to leave.  Do I make myself clear?”_

_He did.  Crystal clear, as they nodded back at him.  Natasha knew better.  Wilson Fisk had a lot of similarities to the Russian thugs she’d been around her entire life.  The difference was Fisk was local.  He didn’t have pride as motivation for Russia or any country.  The area of Hell’s Kitchen in New York City was his world.  And if he ruled that with his intimidation and money and clubs?  Then that was all he wanted._

_Natasha warned Maria and gave her tips, “Don’t look him in the eye.  Keep your head bowed.  Fidget with your fingers and look timid.  Bite your lip.  Look nervous.  It’s all to make him feel powerful.  And don’t **ever** talk back or question him.”  They planned and planned leading up to the start, and felt more than prepared.   _

_And day one, the women were hired.  But again, things changed immediately.  With Fisk’s stern warning, Maria and Natasha knew they couldn’t have a couple of shady looking vans full of men outside, surveilling them the entire time.  He and his men would catch on too quickly, so their simple plan changed._

_Fury called Melinda May in from Dallas, where her and Phil were working on assignment for the last month.  She made the suggestion to bring Wanda into the field with her.  They would surveil Natasha and Maria from a couple blocks away._

_The initial change did **not** go over well.  _

_Bucky was soon eating his own words that he told Steve the night before at the bar.  And Wanda and him got into a huge argument about her not being a field agent.  She told him the same exact thing he’d told Steve earlier, “You have nothing to worry about, James.  I’m with May.  And we’re only surveilling.  It’s the job, and this is too important.  I need to help where I can.”_

_His scowl mirrored his brothers, but he kept his mouth shut afterwards.  For that night at least._

_And the team didn’t have anything to worry about, for a week._

_But the entire mission felt like a ticking time bomb back at the office._

_Each day, Steve had to keep his mouth shut, and watch as the four women left.  With Natasha and Maria dressed down to practically nothing in a long trench coat with their ‘uniforms’ on underneath._

_Uniforms was a laughable term when Steve first saw it and heard the word thrown out.  Policemen wore uniforms.  Nurses and Doctors even wore scrubs as uniforms.  This goddamn thing was **not** that.  Their ‘uniforms’ consisted of tight black shorts that basically had their asses hanging out the back, four-inch high heels, and a ‘top’ that was essentially part of a string bikini.  On the right triangle, that barely covered anything, it said, ‘King,’ and on the left, ‘Pins.’  The words were in sequined rhinestones.   _

_King Pins seemed like a real classy joint._

_Natasha made the mistake of calling it a top the first night after she wore it.  They were back at their apartment, and Steve finally let his frustrations show, “It’s a bra, Nat.  A fucking bra.”  Natasha didn’t get a chance to respond before Steve kept going, “Hell, Natasha.  You have actual bras that cover more skin than that piece of string does.”  She glared at him as she shot back, “It’s a simple question, Steve.  Do you trust me and my abilities out in the field or not?”_

_Shit._

_This was going to be stressful.  That much was clear on day one.  Steve apologized right away, and they had make-up sex shortly after._

_It wasn’t the jealousy driving him mad.  It **was** his worry, like always.  Yes, he trusted her, but he absolutely hated not being in the field with her.  They’d had undercover missions before, where Natasha had to flirt and seduce men, practically wearing nothing.  And while Steve didn’t **love** those times, they never bothered him like this mission did.  Steve had never let himself get this worked up, in regards to their field assignments before.  _

_But that was because this time was different.  They weren’t in the field together.  And Steve knew that Fisk reminded Natasha of men from her past.  Of Ivan.  So yeah, he fucking hated that he wasn’t out there with her._ _But he kept his mouth shut after that first night when he initially cracked.  He trusted Natasha, and he was just going to have to gut this out._

_But each day, as the women left the 42nd floor, Steve had a scowl on his face that could cut glass as he popped a couple of antacids into his mouth from his stomach being in knots.  Bucky was upset too, that Wanda wasn’t in the office, but they’d ironed things out after that initial argument.  And he wasn’t consumed with worry like Steve…yet._

_But he’d soon join Steve.  Because a week into the operation, things rapidly changed again, causing Bucky to start popping antacids too._

_After a week, Fisk caught Maria and Natasha outside for their ‘cigarette break.’  They were talking with Wanda.  In reality, they were giving her their daily burner phones that had pictures and recordings from around the lounge area, below the dance floor and poles._

_“Who’s your pretty friend, Kiki?”  Kiki was Maria’s fake name, and Natasha went by Talia.  ‘Kiki,’ responded, “This is Nikki, Mr. Fisk.  She was just…”_

_Fisk cleared his throat and looked annoyed as he towered over them, “Kiki.  Talia.  I know I told you I only had one rule – no men you know.  But I think you should know that it was implied, that there **is** a bigger rule.  My employees **don’t** lie to me.  So, don’t degrade yourself by telling me that Nikki was just in the area chatting with you.”_

_Natasha shifted on her feet, looking nervous and playing the part, thinking of something to say as Maria stayed silent and puffed on her cigarette in the background.  Much to their surprise, Wanda spoke up in her soft and timid ‘Nikki’ voice, “Sorry, Sir.  Tally and Kiki here…just didn’t want you to know they were getting high on the job.”_

_Natasha’s eyes flitted over to her as Wanda pulled a couple of dime bags from her coat pocket.  Melinda thought it was best to be prepared a few days ago and have it on hand as an excuse.  When in Rome…act the part.  Or something like that._

_Fisk gripped Natasha’s shoulder hard, “Is this true, Talia?  Are you working the floor, while getting high?”  Natasha played up the nervousness as she shifted back and forth in her heels again.  Rubbing her arms, she pretended she was shivering and nodded slowly._

_The important part was that he bought it.  Fisk laughed boisterously, bringing Kiki and Talia inside his sizable arms, “Why didn’t you ladies tell me you wanted a little pick me up on the job?  There’s **plenty** here.  Nikki, you come inside with us, and I’ll put you to work too.”_

_Damn._

_A week in, and things didn’t just change.  They took a sharp turn._

_Bucky was freaking out back at the FBI building, and Steve had to stop him from driving off as he grabbed his keys, “Buck.  It’s towards the end of their shift.  They’ll be back here soon.  Natasha and Melinda and Maria have Wanda’s back.  They’ll be okay for right now.”_

_They were okay.  But the women came back to a very tense conference room because Steve was trying to calm Bucky, but also quiet his own out of control thoughts too.  And Loki and Tony were **loving** it.  Of course they were.  They’d been out of Quantico for four years, but by no means had they fully matured.  In times like these, it was all too easy to fall back into old patterns.  _

_Natasha was taking her coat off in the corner, revealing her ‘uniform’ as she slipped into a sweatshirt.  And Loki just couldn’t help himself as he let out a long and dramatic whistled, “Your ass and tits have never looked better, Natasha.”_

_And Tony couldn’t stop himself if he tried.  He didn’t try though, “Hey Red, I know Fisk said ‘no men you know.’  But what if I stroll into the club with my own alias.  I’d really like to see how many tips you ladies are collecting on this little side gig of yours.”_

_“You could go by Tony Stank,” Rhodey laughed as Tony was officially cracking up now._

_Natasha rolled her eyes, knowing they were trying to get a rise out of her…and the Brooklyn Boys.  She wasn’t taking the bait, but Steve looked like he was going to punch Tony._

_Fury shut them all up though, “Loki, zip it.  Stark, quit being an asshole.  And Barnes and Rogers?  Quit being overprotective Neanderthals.  You’re all here because your smart and talented. **Act** like it.”  He groaned a little and turned towards Wanda, “Maximoff, are you okay with this change in plans?  I know you don’t usually go into the field, but this op is a great chance to takedown Fisk.”  _

_Her opinion and the women in the field with her, were the **only** ones Fury cared about at the moment._

_Wanda was nervous at first, but she **really** wanted to take down Fisk.  She’d buried her own brother because of drugs two years ago.  Yes, Pietro overdosed and was sick, but it was scum like Fisk who fed his disease.  And the fact that Fisk was a sex trafficker on top of it, and a ruthless brute, leaving dead bodies in his path…almost mocking the FBI?  Well, it only made her motivation that much higher._

_“I’m in, Fury.  I’m fine.  Maria and Natasha will help me prepare.”_

_Bucky was pissed off, “You wanna call me a Neanderthal, fine.  But it’s not smart to have three of our teammates out there, with only one person as back-up.  I don’t care how scary May is.  They’re gonna need more help if something goes wrong, Fury.”_

_May actually agreed with Barnes, but it was the other change in plans at the one-week mark, that caused Fury to allow the rest of the field team loose._

_Because of how attractive ‘Kiki, Nikki, and Talia,’ were, Fisk moved them to the night shift immediately, promising them better tips.  Which didn’t help the tension in the room.  But Fury allowed Bucky and Steve and everyone else to surveil with May starting the next day.  But they had to keep their distance and stay at least a few blocks away._

_Steve kept it together at the office, but he was more worried than ever about the change to the nightshift.  He’d heard the recordings from the burner phones.  And he had to listen how men disgustingly catcalled at the women over the last week at the club.  And that was in the daytime._

_Steve couldn’t hold his tongue any longer at dinner in their apartment that evening, “Nothing good happens at a strip club after the sun goes down, Natasha.”_

_Natasha put her fork full of spaghetti down and actually laughed at him, “Steve, nothing good happens at a strip club… **ever**.  So, let’s just drop this idea that there’s certain times when it’s okay for women to work for sleazy men, and certain times when it’s not.  You have got to stop with this jealousy.”  Steve became quiet, and she got defensive, “You know what.  We were starving when we got home, but I’m not hungry anymore.”  She usually showered and changed after being done at King Pins for the day, but with the turn of events during the day, she hadn’t yet.  _

_Natasha stood up from the table and took off the same sweatshirt she’d covered up with earlier at the office when Loki whistled at her._

_The fact that she was in her skimpy uniform did not help the situation at all right now.  Steve tossed his fork on his plate, “You want me to admit I’m jealous because you’re only wearing six more inches of clothing than the actual strippers?  Fine, Natasha.  You win.  Yeah, I don’t like the idea of you getting slobbered all over by creepy old men in tracksuits.  In fact, I fucking hate it.  But that’s **not** what this is about.”  _

_Natasha was tired and was trying to win the argument, so she unhooked her top and threw it on the ground as she shimmied out of her shorts.  It was a dirty and cheap play, but they were in the heat of the moment.  She stood completely nude in front of Steve now, as his mind tried to focus.  Challenging him, she took a step forward, “Then what is this about, Steve?”_

_“You and me.”_

_Steve’s voice softened as he turned away from her.  He didn’t want to get distracted right now, “I trust you and me in the field, no matter what, Nat.  I just…can’t stand the feeling of not being by your side.  That’s what it is.  I swear.  Yeah, it makes me sick that men are staring at your ass.  But I hate that I’m not there.  That we’re not there together watching each other’s backs.”_

_All the tension was sucked out of the room, and Natasha didn’t want to win any argument anymore.  She just wanted to make Steve feel better, because she heard what he was saying._

_Natasha came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his stomach as her fingers skimmed underneath his shirt to feel the warmth there.  She kissed his shoulder, “Steve, you do have my back, always.  You’ll have it from three blocks away.  We have the best friends and team anyone could ask for, even counting Loki and Tony when they’re jackasses.  I trust them all in the field, **almost** as much as I trust you.  So, you gotta rely on that same feeling.  Because you’re driving yourself crazy.  Maria and I can handle this.  And Wanda will be fine.”_

_Natasha grounded him. **Always**.  And having her so close with her arms around him, did make him feel better.  They were together.  By their dining table.  In their apartment.  _

_And Natasha was walking backwards now, pulling him towards their bathroom, “Come on, Soldier.  You want to watch my back so bad?  Come join me in the shower.”  Steve couldn’t help but laugh and follow, “I think I’m done with dinner too, Nat.”_

* * *

_Natasha had calmed his nerves that night._

_And each evening after that, Steve and Natasha would get back to their apartment around 2:30 am, after her night shift and his surveillance shift had ended.  They tried to settle each other’s nerves in the safety of each their arms as they listened and talked.  Wanda was doing the same thing with Bucky in their apartment too._

_They tried, but god, it was hard._

_Each morning they’d all get up and go to work, piecing together what they had on Fisk.  Each afternoon, Natasha, Wanda, and Maria would work on Talia, Nikki, and Kiki’s plan for the evening.  And each night, they’d leave, with Natasha’s Navy tattoo covered up with make-up…and with all three of them in those damn trench coats.  To go off to the strip club, serving drinks to drooling men._

_They repeated that new cycle with Wanda, over and over for a week and a half.  Bucky would never admit it, but the cycle seemed to actually run pretty smooth._

_But it didn’t last._

_Because at that point…two and a half weeks after this whole thing started when Natasha and Maria first got hired on, Fisk flipped the script.  He had other ideas for his three recent hires.  Three new waitresses, who’d garnered almost as much attention as the dancers on the poles did._

_Fisk called them into the back.  And five minutes later, Kiki, Talia, and Nikki sat in his office that was filled with cigar smoke, black leather, and blood red rugs as he grinned at them, “How would my favorite trio like to see an uptick in their income?”_

_Maria stayed quiet.  Natasha looked nervous.  Wanda seemed eager._

_They played their innocent parts well as he went on, “Kiki, with your legs, and Talia’s breasts, and Nikki’s whole doe-eyed innocence, I have more men asking for private dances from the three of you, than from any of my actual strippers.  That is quite the impression you ladies have made in just a short time.”_

_Natasha could almost hear Steve and Bucky’s internal voices yelling as she nervously said, “Mr. Fisk...I’m not a trained dancer.  I don’t think I’d be good for business.”_

_The other two women nodded their heads in agreement as Fisk interrupted, “That’s why they **all** love you so much.  The sex appeal that the three of you exude is natural.  It isn’t forced like the women on stage and in the back rooms.  And it has men **salivating** for you.  Let me rephrase the question.”  _

_Fisk puffed out more smoke from his cigar and his tone darkened, “I have a couple of interested parties. **Very** interested parties, in the three of you.  Let’s just say, these men are important to me.  And their business means a great deal to me.  So…how would the three of you like to see a happy boss, create happy customers, and we’re all richer because of it?”_

_Fisk was no longer asking.  That much was clear.  He was telling the women, they were going to do as he said.  Wanda played her part up, “I’d like to make more money, Mr. Fisk.  I’ll try to learn whatever dance moves I can.  What do you want me to do?”_

_Natasha would never admit it to Steve right now, because he’d flip out.  But she could hear the nervousness in Wanda’s voice.  She felt the same way inside now, too.  So, did Maria.  These men that Fisk talked about could be crucial to taking him down.  But men like that, also meant it would increase the amount of risk and danger they’d be in._

_Fisk used Wanda’s acceptance for all three of them, “Good girls.  Friday night then.  It’ll be private here, for my best girls and my best customers.  I have three men in particular, that have requested the three of you…in one of the private rooms together.  They want a natural experience, so don’t try too hard with them.  Act like you do while serving drinks.”_

_There was no calming Steve and Bucky’s nerves that night.  They were livid.  Mostly because they knew if the women were going to go through with this, then they’d have to take their earpieces out.  They would have to be radio silent from the team._

_Fisk gave them Thursday night off to ‘get themselves ready.’_   _Natasha was sick at the thought of what that meant in regards to grooming and prepping their bodies.  He’d basically pimped them out as escorts for these ‘business partners’ of his.  So, they all sat in the conference room early on Thursday morning, trying to decide what to do._

_It was so tense you could hear every shift of a chair, every breath, and every tap of the finger on the table.  Loki and Tony didn’t dare crack a joke.  They even knew their limits in a situation like this.  And honestly?  They were worried as hell too.  They loved them their family of friends.  And Loki in particular was very close with Wanda and Natasha._

_Steve and Bucky looked like their heads were about to explode.  Fury broke the ice though, “We pull the plug on this the second any of you three decide you can’t move forward.  Any single one of you backing out right now would raise suspicions.  So, I’m afraid at this point it’s all or none of you.”_

_Bucky had, had it, “Can I ask what the hell you mean by, ‘all of you,’ Fury?”_

_Fury sighed as Wanda tried to put her hand on his leg but it was too much.  Bucky was up and pacing, “Don’t try and BS me here.  I mean, are we talking about our three co-workers and friends...two of whom happen to be in serious relationships with two other members of this team...One of whom is ME.  Are we actually talking about these women putting their bodies on the line as some sort of female escort, so we can take down a leading thug in the city?”_

_Maria…had, had it too.  She was beyond aggravated right now but for different reasons, “I appreciate the concern, Bucky.  Really, I’m sure all of it is actually directed towards me.”_

_Her dry sarcasm landed flat with everyone, except with Natasha and May, who grinned at her remark.  But Maria went on, “Look.  This isn’t easy, but it’s the job.  And it’s what Fury and everyone tried to warn us about at Quantico.  We wanna get people like Fisk off the streets?  Then we have to play a little dirty.”_

_Maria took a breath and leaned forward in her chair, “Before you and Steve freak out at what I meant by dirty, stop.  Just stop, Bucky.  We’re not going to fuck some dirty old men, just to take down Fisk.  And you **know** that.  We use the tactics we’ve all been trained in for years.  And we get them to talk.  The cell phones have already been planted in the back room, and they’ll be able to record everything when Loki turns them on remotely.  You just won’t be in our ears this time.  But we’ll get what we need.”_

_Looking at the other women in the room, Maria finished, “And then we drug the bastards, and get the hell out of the strip club and never look back.  Tomorrow night will be it.  Right ladies?”_

_Fury glanced around the room.  Everyone was on board except for Steve and Bucky, so he spoke very clearly, “Barnes.  Rogers.  If your personal involvement means you can’t show the trust in your team, then you’ll be sitting back here with me.  The rest of the team can swoop in and take Fisk and his men down when Romanoff and the women come out with their evidence.”_

_Steve swallowed as he stared at the middle of the table.  He was thinking the same things Bucky said out loud.  But he trusted his team.  He **trusted** Natasha.  And he’d be damned if he was going to be even farther away from her, “No, Fury.  I’m going to be there.”  _

_“Good, that’s what I thought,” Fury excused the team and Bucky blew out a breath, nodding in agreement as they all parted ways._

_That evening was one of the more difficult nights in their recent memory.  Natasha and Steve laid in bed and tried to talk, but there was a desperation in him as he touched every inch of her over and over.  Like he was trying to memorize everything.  She laid in his arms, knowing tomorrow was going to be hard, no matter what, “Steve, I know you’re worried.  I’m not going to lie, I am too.  But you have to have faith and trust in the team and in me.  When we all work together, we are stronger from it.”_

_Steve pulled her in tighter, “You know I trust you, Nat.  With everything.  It’s just…at Quantico, we were taught to expect the unexpected and to learn how to deal with uncontrolled variables.  We’ve done that together over the last four years.  Tomorrow just seems like one huge, uncontrolled variable to me, and I don’t feel good at all about not being near you.  About you going radio silent on us for a few hours.”_

_Natasha propped herself up next to him with the sheet barely covering her body, “Steve, we have to go quiet.  You know in the back rooms of clubs like that, they’re going to scan our bodies.  We placed the burner phones in a ceiling panel in the backroom already, so they won’t catch them.  When we go in, Loki will turn the phones on, and he’ll be recording the entire thing.  If he hears anything go wrong, he’ll let you know right away.”_

_“Yeah, but there will be a delay with it.  I won’t be directly connected with you, Natasha.”_

_Steve sat up now too, letting his bare chest show as the moonlight hit his smooth jawline, “You promise me, Natasha.  I mean it.  If it doesn’t feel right at all, you get the fuck out of there right away.  You **promise** me.”_

_“I promise, Steve.”_

_They barely got any sleep that night, because Steve still couldn’t keep his hands still with his reeling thoughts and worry._

* * *

_The next evening was upon them.  Loki and Sam were giving Maria a pep talk, while Steve and Bucky hugged their girlfriends.  Somehow, the brothers were able to step away as Maria, Wanda, and Natasha got in their little blue, Volkswagen beetle that’d seen better days.  It was the perfect undercover car for them._

_And then the rest of the team was in motion too._

_Steve looked over before getting into their van, “Loki, I want you to update me with **every** single thing going on in that back room, do you hear?  And if you get the slightest inkling they’re in trouble, you tell me, and we’ll pull them out.”_

_So, how did the team do that evening?_

_There was a reason Fury took notice at Quantico, and they all ended up together.  That evening, they worked like a well-oiled machine.  Just like in Hogan’s Alley._

_And it started with Kiki, Talia, and Nikki playing their parts and going through the motions of getting frisked and scanned._

_Acting innocent and coy, they were perfect in the red tinted room in the back, nervously fretting around in their uniforms.  Three older men were waiting for them.  They were from South America with accents to match, and had greased back hair and cigars.  And they each leered at the women like they were their next meal._

_The tallest man laughed at Maria, “Don’t be nervous, sweetheart.  I won’t bite...hard.”_

_They were all sitting right underneath a ceiling panel on a long leather couch.  The ceiling panel with three cell phones above, recording everything.  Maria kept the conversation going, “Say Mister, this is my first time and all...dancing for someone.  Would you mind just talking to me for a little bit.  I think it’ll calm me down.”_

_He gave her a toothy grin, because Maria showed off her legs and ran her fingers down her thighs in front of him.  She already had him eating out of her palm as he spoke in that accented drawl through his broken English, “My partnership with Fisk…already lucrative.  You’re like Christmas bonus, Kiki.”_

_Natasha picked up on Maria’s lead and sat on the middle man’s lap.  Straddling his thighs, she leaned forward to shove her cleavage in his face as she spoke, “Ooh Kiki.  Partnership.  Like, are we gonna get more places to learn how to dance at, Sir?  That type of partnership?”_

_The man grunted through his words, “ **No**.  You dance…for no one but me.  That type partnership.  Type partnership to keep Fisk in drug business for long, long time.  We sell him routes for money.  But maybe I change deal.  Maybe I say…we sell routes for money, **and** you…my sexy little red-head.”_

_Loki was **not** relaying this message to Steve and Bucky.  He could tell the women were still in control and were feeling okay (as okay as could be), but the Brooklyn Boys would definitely lose their shit if they heard this._

_Wanda nervously toyed with the ends of her hair as she shifted on her feet and glanced up at the man in front of her.  He had an almost evil glint in his eyes as he patted his knee, “Yes.  I like new deal.  We get cash **and** women.  Fisk gets drug routes.  Perfect for everyone.  Come here little one.  Have seat on knee.”_

_Natasha caught Maria’s eye out of her peripheral, telling each other silently, if Wanda says their code word, “absinthe,” then they will end this right now.  The running joke from long ago at Quantico, kept going and going into their years as agents.  It was the word they told Loki to listen for, and he would send the team in then._

_Wanda wasn’t playing nervous.  She **was** nervous.  Maria and Natasha had more training for something like this.  No matter how much practice Wanda had over the last two weeks, she was still not anywhere near their comfort level.  _

_But it played into who she was portraying, and Wanda proved them wrong in that moment.  She dug in, and sat on the disgusting pig’s knee, laughing nervously, “My name’s Nikki.  Thanks for being so nice to me.”_

_She disarmed him with her eyes, brushing her fingers along his cheek as he said, “You sweetest little thing, yes?  Yes, I keep you all to self.  Let Fisk run drug and sex rings fully in city.  I don’t care.  I think we get better end in deal.  Money and only innocent women left in city.”_

_All three women had to hold back their gag reflexes from the foreigners’ filthy tones._

_It was the tall man.  The man that Maria was currently shimmying her ass in front of that put the nail in the coffin as he reached out to grab her behind, “Do we stop Fisk?  Stop transfer for his money now for drug routes?  Stop, so we upgrade deal upstairs?  Or maybe we wait.  Have fun with our women.  Have round one.  Then change deal.”_

_The FBI finally had the fact that Fisk was transferring money for routes recorded.  It sealed the deal.  They had enough now to move in and raid the joint.  But the women had to get out safely first._

_Maria was holding back the urge to vomit.  She was checking every box on her cliché meter by bending over to touch her toes as she looked back at her teammates, “Hey Nikki, Talia.  You know what’d be fun?  If we got some tequila to loosen up.”_   _She said tequila. **Not** absinthe.  Telling Loki their plan was still in place._

_They would slip the drugs hidden behind the bar, in the men’s drinks and sneak out with the cell phones.  They’d meet up with the team, gear up, and then join in on arresting everyone at Fisk’s place.  Loki communicated with the rest of the team, that the ladies were almost done and would probably be back at the van in 15 minutes._

_The team was a well-oiled machine.  They were **not** perfectly oiled.  _

_Steve and Bucky practically put a hole in the van from their tapping feet.  15 minutes had come and gone, and their nerves and worry got the best of them.  They didn’t even wait a minute longer before barreling out.  They sprinted three blocks, with the team following behind._

_They rushed into Fisk’s seedy strip-club in their tactical gear, desperately looking for their teammates.  Desperate looking for Natasha and Wanda._

_They should’ve waited because they barged in, and Wanda, Maria, and Natasha…were on the stage.  With only Fisk and the three men in the sitting area.  They were pretending to learn how to dance, grabbing onto the stripper pole in between a fake fit of giggles.  Maria’s cliché meter was overflowing by now._

_Fisk called for his men in back immediately at the site of Steve and Bucky.  And fifteen minutes of chaos followed with guns being fired, fighting, and three women in skimpy scraps of clothing, kicking ass in four-inch heels._

_But they didn’t escape unscathed._

_One man struck Maria in the back.  Another kicked Wanda in the stomach, and Fisk came over and grabbed Natasha’s arm, slapping her hard against her cheek before she said to him, “You’re done for, Fisk.  We’ve got everything we need on you.  So why don’t you sit down, because you’re under arrest.”_

_In the surprise of their grand entrance, the Brooklyn Boys were caught off guard.  Fisk’s men poured out from the back office, circling around them.  The brothers got a few shots off, with one of Steve’s bullets hitting the man that Natasha had been sitting on only 15 minutes ago.  Steve didn’t know that, but it didn’t matter.  The man was dead._

_But they were overpowered quickly.  There were simply too many members of Fisk’s gang surrounding them right now.  As a result, Bucky’s left arm took a beating as he was knocked on the ground.  Shouts and yells poured out as one guy pinned his hand under his boot, while another stomped and kicked at his arm and shoulder, over and over again._

_After 30 seconds, Steve was knocked on his ass too as Fisk’s minions swarmed him.  They kicked his stomach first, but then repeated the same pattern as the perps with Bucky had.  Only they focused on Steve’s knee instead, beating and bashing it relentlessly, as two other men held him down._

_Fisk wasn’t the type of criminal to murder his enemy right away.  He was the type of thuggish goon to beat a man to a bloody pulp first, before finally killing him.  That’s what his lackeys were trained to do, as Bucky and Steve’s groans rang loud until their teammates arrived a minute later, and they finally broke free.  But their injuries already settled in._

_All because they ran inside, fully-cocked and half-brained._

_But the advantage was regained instantly with their team’s arrival.  Maria jammed her thumb in the tall man’s eye before she took him down and stomped on his dick with her heel.  Wanda grabbed a glass and smashed it over the guy’s head, who had her sit on his lap.  Blood splattered on her face as he was knocked out cold and fell to the ground._

_Natasha’s criminal had already been shot by Steve.  But she didn’t miss the chance to throw a high kick at the son of a bitch behind this whole operation.  She flung her leg up and let her stupid, four-inch high heel knock the air out of Wilson Fisk’s wind pipe, and then followed it up with a knee to his groin and a kick to the back of his knees as he landed on his ass, “I told you to sit the fuck down, Fisk.  Because I’m with the FBI, and you’re under arrest.”_

_Some of Fisk’s men ran.  Some were shot, but most were arrested, like the two surviving South American criminals._

_But the temporary damage was done to the Brooklyn Brothers’ limbs.  Bucky’s arm hung limp and Steve hobbled around through hisses in pain._

_And the FBI ran through the motions as sirens sounded and agents flooded the scene.  The cellphones were backed up and bagged as solid incriminating evidence.  The recordings of the drug trafficking routes, along with additional contracts and pictures found during the raid in Fisk’s office, would eventually place him and the South American men in prison for a long time._

_Months later, Fisk would even be brought up on murder charges for a police officer that went missing last year.  The team found actual evidence of the man’s death in their raid.  Fisk would be put away for life for the murder, on top of all of his other crimes.  He’d never even been arrested as a suspect for any of his kills over the years.  There was simply no evidence, which was beyond chilling.  So, the fact that the FBI put ‘Kingpin’ away for life, and justice was served for at least one death…Well, it meant a lot to the family members of murdered men and women._

_Kiki, Nikki, and Talia were wiped from existence, leaving Maria, Wanda and Natasha.  They were key to the success of Wilson Fisk’s takedown.  And they were in tennis shoes, sweats, and FBI jackets now, thanks to their friends that brought the clothing for them.  It was a successful operation.  The team wanted to celebrate that night.  Maria was all for it, telling Sam she’d show him her clichéd ass shake that had men spilling drug trade routes from here to South America._

_But four people didn’t go out with them.  Wanda and Natasha were furious.  And their boyfriends were in pain.  Yes, it was temporary, but they were hurt.  Not to mention, Natasha had a red mark on her cheek and Wanda had bruising, from the boot mark on her stomach._

_So, four hours later after processing and debriefing, and paperwork was completed, the two couples were back at Steve and Natasha’s apartment._

* * *

_The door to the apartment slammed shut._

_Bucky sat down next to Steve on the couch as both men nursed their wounds.  The physical pain they were displaying, was nothing compared to the tongue lashing they were worried about receiving._

_Natasha brought two ice packs over.  She grabbed a couple of bags of frozen peas from the freezer too.  Bucky made the mistake of waving Natasha off, “No, you take the ice packs for your face and Wanda’s stomach.”_

_A sarcastic laugh from Natasha followed, “ **Wow** , what a gentleman.  First, you and my idiot of a roommate and boyfriend, come to our rescue before we called you in.  All because you **had** to try and save the day.  And now, your oozing with heroics, trying to take a bag of peas and leave us wimpy girls the ice packs.”_

_They **knew** this was coming.  _

_Steve and Bucky had driven separately, trying to give them some space.  “This is going to be as bad as TEVOC back at Quantico,” Bucky said anxiously on the drive home.  Steve sighed in the SUV, adjusting his left knee again, “Can’t we just…all be thankful everyone’s okay and that this goddamn undercover op is over?”_

_Bucky glanced over quickly, “Yeah...I don’t think it’s over though, Steve.  I think we’re in for it tonight.”_

_And they were.  Bucky wasn’t going to argue with Natasha, just like Steve wouldn’t dare say anything to Wanda.  They had to wonder if Natasha and Wanda were doing this on purpose right now.  Talking to the opposite man they lived with, in order to keep them quiet, “Fine.  I’ll take the ice pack, Natasha.”_

_Wanda grabbed a pack from Natasha as she walked over to Steve, “Are you going to stupidly argue over an ice pack, Steve?  Or are you done being a hero for the night?”_

_Steve winced as he held his hand out, but Wanda shoved the pack down on his knee.  His knee with hideous red and purple swelling, underneath bandages and torn jeans.  Steve hissed, but Bucky’s gasp was louder when Natasha did the same thing to his shoulder, pressing down hard where it hurt the most._

_The women finally sat in the recliner and loveseat adjacent to them.  The only sounds filling the air right now were frozen peas crinkling against Wanda’s stomach and Natasha’s face, and a couple of sighs, from a couple of guys walking on thin ice._

_Instead of trying to talk this out like civilized adults, Bucky spoke first…which was a mistake.  Because he was tired.  And he was agitated that he felt guilty, when he’d truly been scared sick about Wanda.  He was worried about Natasha and Maria too, but it wasn’t the same.  And their little argument wasn’t about him being worried over either of their well beings.  It was about Bucky and Wanda._

_So, he dug in, “You know what, Wanda.  I know you want me to grovel and beg for forgiveness.  But how about shining the mirror on yourself.  I was scared to death for you, and I had to sit back and shut up for almost two full weeks while men slobbered over you.  I heard those fucking recordings.  So, don’t tell me I’m overreacting.  I **heard** how that bastard wanted to basically buy you from Fisk and take you away forever.  Think about what would’ve happened if something went wrong today?  It’d be a lot fucking worse than me icing a banged-up shoulder, I’ll tell you that.”_

_Bucky stood up and started pacing, “Screw this.  I gotta get out of here.  I’ll talk to you later, Steve.”  He wasn’t just pacing anymore.  He grabbed his keys off the counter and was out the door five seconds later and slammed the door again.  Wanda was shocked.  She looked over and Natasha nodded for her to go after him.  Apparently, the couples were having this talk separately after all._

_Yes, there were some similarities to TEVOC with this argument.  But there were some stark differences too.  This argument didn’t involve worries over placements and driving tests.  And it didn’t deal with two couples naively embarking on their first real fight._

_They’d all been working together at the FBI for years now.  They’d found their groove as a cohesive team, and were as close of friends as could be.  And Bucky and Wanda, and Steve and Natasha, had been together for four years too.  First, living with friends, and for the last year, living together as couples.  They’d only grown closer as time ticked on._

_But today was a blunt reminder of how quickly things could change.  How quickly they could lose each other.  Steve and Bucky’s minds were reeling during the hours they couldn’t communicate with their girlfriends.  And when they barged into the strip club at the end, it was because they were convinced something was wrong.  Loki said, ‘give them fifteen minutes.’  And each minute that passed felt like an hour, because they were picturing the worst._

_Of course, they barged in._

_And part of what Bucky said, was right.  The problem was, the women were right too.  Steve’s brow pinched together as Natasha spoke, “I assume everything Bucky just said, you’re feeling too?”_

_Natasha wasn’t yelling though.  Bucky was coming at this from an angle of being more worried because Wanda wasn’t typically a field agent, and that added some drama to their dynamic.  And he just blew up, surprising the hell out of both Wanda and her._

_So, Natasha was really trying to stay calm and not let any other petty remarks come out._

_Steve ran his fingers through his hair as his elbow rested on his good knee.  He let out a huge breath, “Yeah, Natasha.  More or less.  I heard the recordings…I’d be lying if I told you it didn’t make my blood boil, listening to those men and how they degraded you.  And what they wanted to do with taking you away.  But I swear…I didn’t barge in because I was jealous.  I swear…”_

_There was a hitch in his voice as he trailed off at the end.  Natasha heard the shift in his tone as she stood up and stretched.  She picked up Bucky’s ice pack and put it on her own face now and came over to sit by Steve on the couch._

_“Didn’t you trust that I would’ve called for help if I needed it, Steve?  Loki was listening the entire time.  Maria and I had our eyes on Wanda the **entire** time.  We knew she wasn’t as experienced.  And if something went wrong in that room…I swear to you, I would’ve ended those three men’s lives before they had a chance to count to 10.  If I felt something going the wrong way...”_

_Steve turned his head in his hand to look at her, “I don’t doubt that, Natasha…I don’t doubt that you could’ve protected Wanda and Maria in the backroom.  I can’t help it though.  I should’ve been in there with you somehow.  I couldn’t stand not having an ounce of control in the situation.”_

_Speaking of not having control, there was more than just a hitch in his voice right now, “I heard everything, Natasha.  You didn’t stay in the backroom.  And Loki didn’t call us in…because you didn’t say absinthe.  Fifteen minutes went by…and when we came inside, and you were all on stage like a Vegas Strip Club…I kind of lost my mind for a minute because I didn’t know what was going on.”_

_Natasha arched her back as she turned, now sitting against the sofa arm as she drew her knees up in her sweats, “Steve.  We had to distract them to drug them.  We were about to do that when you ran inside.”_

_Steve shook his head and scoffed at her words, “Funny, I didn’t see them actually drinking any tequila.  I saw the bottle on stage with the three of you.  I think they didn’t have **any** intention of drinking, Nat.  What if they were planning on drugging you instead, so you wouldn’t know where they were taking you.  Did you ever stop to think about that?”_

_Damn._

_Yes, Steve and Bucky came in the second 15 minutes was up.  Yes, they didn’t secure the scene before charging in.  Yes, they got themselves banged up in the process.  And yes, they let their worry and fear blind them.  But…Steve had a point.  And somewhere in the back of Natasha’s head, she was sure Bucky had one too, in whatever argument he and Wanda were in the middle of right now._

_She was listening to every word he was saying as his voice grew a little firmer, “You were away from the phones.  The **only** connection I had with you was gone.  Knowledge.  Skills.  Instinct, Natasha.  You had everything planned, perfectly.  Every detail was accounted for leading up to today, but they diverted and got you on stage.  If something happened out there, Loki wouldn’t have known it or been able to warn us.  So, your damn right I barged in at 15 minutes, and I’d do it again.  And it’s not because I don’t trust you.”  He had to take a breath to calm himself, “God, I trust you with everything.  You’re my best friend, Natasha.”_

_Steve put his other elbow on his bandaged knee, not caring at all that it hurt like hell anymore.  He sat there with his head in his hands as emotion dripped into his voice, “What I don’t trust…is what happens when we’re not together in the field, Natasha. **That’s** what I don’t trust.  You make up for my weaknesses…for taking on too much at times.  You ground me and keep me calm.  I keep you from running off half-cocked, trying to prove yourself, like you were forced to for so long under Ivan and Oksana.  We’re stronger together.  Our entire team, sure…But I’m talking about you and me, specifically.  **We** are stronger together, because we know each other inside and out, and can see what the other one can’t sometimes.”  _

_His voice grew quiet, “I felt like I was missing a part of myself not being with you.  And I went in there, and saw you on that stage and...I know you felt that way too.  Things could have gotten away from you three really fast up there.”_

_Despite all their stupid arguments they’d had over the years, Natasha’s anger was tempered right now.  Because Steve wasn’t acting out of jealousy or a lack of trust in her.  She felt that in their deep connection only the two of them could fully understand._

_It was back to what May and Coulson had told them at Quantico._

_Working together with the one you love most in a job like this, demanded sacrifice, patience, and understanding.  It was simply different than other couples who worked together in other job settings.  And times like these?  Yes, the stress and the danger were there.  But it was more than that.  It was the fact that Steve had to watch his partner in every sense of the word, go off, without being able to physically have her back.  It was beyond difficult.  It was almost impossible._

_Natasha had relied on her knowledge and skills over the last three weeks.  First with Maria, then with Wanda.  And they were all talented and smart, there was no doubt about that.  But the instinct piece...Steve was right.  Natasha’s was impeccable, but Steve only made it stronger as they fed off of each other._

_How could he not make her stronger?  Their bond was as solid as stone.  Steve saved her as they fell in love at Quantico.  And Natasha found a way, to save both herself and Clint as a result.  To find themselves in a life now.  An actual life, where she could argue about things like trust and jealousy._

_Things that were never possible before she knew Steve._

_Steve was her other half.  And together they made each other whole._

_They had **no idea** how true that statement was.  And how instinct would save them both…down the road in Russia, and then years after being torn apart by pain and agony.  That was in the future.  _

_This was now._

_And right now, Natasha knew Steve was actually right.  She was too.  Two things could be right at once.  So, maybe this argument was more about listening instead of proving who was more right or more wrong. The point was yes, they were stronger together.  With their friends and team, but most importantly, with each other._

_She scooted closer to him, much to his surprise and dropped the ice pack on the ground again.  Her knees were pushing into his thigh as she sat on her heels and drew his head up from his hands.  Running her fingers along his smooth chin, she looked at him with all the sincerity she was feeling, “Steve, you’re right.  And I’m right too.  I honestly didn’t think of the possibility of them drugging us, and that was a mistake on my part.  If you were there, it would’ve been better.  I can admit that.  We are stronger together, always.”_

_Steve took a deep breath and leaned into her touch.  He sat back as Natasha rested her side against the couch now, “You’re right too, Natasha.  And I know the three of you had to do it all for the mission, and it’s just something I have to keep getting used to.  But you need to know...I’ll say it again.  Yes, I hated how they were looking at you.  Yes, I fucking hated that you had to shove your chest in that man’s face.  But I swear to you, jealousy wasn’t driving my actions.  I was just scared to death.  I can’t promise you I’d do anything different.  But I can promise you, I trust you with everything.”_

* * *

_The point was made._

_They’d listened.  The bad guy was caught.  And this one in particular, was a **really** bad guy.  They would learn from this, even though neither one would drastically change anything.  That wasn’t what this was about.  More or less, it was about learning they’d have to live with the discomfort at times in order to get to the end.  _

_Sometimes they’d have to get through the bad to get to the good…Sarah had told them that so long ago, when Natasha first met her on a night away from Quantico.  It was just as true now, as it was then._

_Natasha was pretty sure Steve was as done with this round and round apology session as she was.  They’d showered at the FBI after they were done debriefing, so, her ‘uniform’ was bagged and would never enter their apartment again._

_Thank fucking god._

_But that didn’t mean something useful couldn’t be brought to this little resolution party of theirs.  Natasha drew her finger between her teeth to match her suggestive tone, “You know...If you want to look at the silver lining with this whole thing, Steve…I think I picked up a few moves over the past three weeks, traipsing around in that uniform I wore.”_

_There it was.  The initial beat, cluing them both in that things were about to get interesting._

_Steve cleared his throat as he caught her gaze with a raised eyebrow, “I uh.  I didn’t realize you were taking classes undercover.  I thought you were there to just…make an arrest...not to learn anything.”_

_His arm was laying on the back of the sofa now.  And they were no longer just clued in.  They both sensed it.  The air instantaneously shifting around them as a charge filled the space in between.  It was so fast and quick, that it all felt…almost electric as their bodies began to hum._

_Natasha was safe.  Steve’s knee was bandaged and hurt, but not badly.  They were **both** okay, and the truth was, the team was damn successful at putting away a very bad man and his men.  And the city was safer because of it.  _

_It was a great day in the grand scheme of things._

_And now?  They’d both apologized._

_No, it wasn’t always easy.  There were times they argued over stupid things like laundry, getting beer, not setting the alarm, or cleaning the bathroom.  There were times they argued over **not** stupid things, like taking too many risks in the field and taking on too many responsibilities in the office.  And then there were times when stubbornness won.  When they didn’t talk…making their fight at TEVOC with the driving test look like a schoolyard scuffle.    _

_That was life._

_Each argument and stupid fight came from loving and living with someone, who was as strong of a force of nature as their partner was.  Steve and Natasha may have been meant for each other, but they weren’t perfect.  No one was.  And being in love wasn’t a fairytale of fluff.  Loving someone.  Sharing a life with someone.  It meant accepting each bump and bruise._ _Each flaw and imperfection._

_Falling in love was only the beginning, when things felt perfect.  Staying in love was the **actual** journey, when learning and growing and acceptance took hold. _

_This particular moment in time, was a stop along their journey.  When their learning and acceptance led them through, after three long and arduous weeks of worry.  They were exhausted and so glad the mission was over.  It helped that they’d won and that no one was severely hurt.  And it helped that Natasha listened to the desperation in Steve’s voice, knowing it wasn’t jealousy behind his words.  It was him being worried sick because of what he said.  They were **always** stronger together, and it was that much harder when they were apart._

_It also helped they’d apologized, admitting they were both wrong, and both right.  And now? It was over, leaving Steve and Natasha staring at each other.  Not just having a clue or a sense anymore.  But **knowing** where their immediate future was headed.  _

_Natasha smirked at Steve as her finger travelled from her mouth to his forearm, tracing a line along his skin as the tickling sensation left goosebumps in its wake, “You know, Steve…I’m a smart girl.  I can’t help it if I happened to pick up a few moves while we were trapping the bad guy.”  She looked down bashfully, playing up this whole routine and shrugged her shoulders, “I mean...I guess I can just try and forget what I’m thinking right now.  Consider it as gone as my uniform.  I won’t bring it up again.”_

_Feisty and stubborn, even now.  Natasha let out a sigh as she pretended to try and leave the couch.  God, did he love her even more for it, but he was stubborn too.  Steve snatched her forearm closest to him, keeping her right where she was, “I didn’t say I didn’t want to know.”  His Adam’s apple bobbed, “I just said I was surprised.  Surprises can be good.”_

_He was putty in her hands, and he was more than happy to be._

_Steve tried to shift his position from the corner of the couch, but Natasha placed her hands on his shoulder and thigh, as her tone sank into a sultry range, “You got a bum knee there, Rogers.  I think you’re going to have to just sit and enjoy this one until I call on you to participate.”_

_Okay, if there was **any** inkling of hesitation...before she slid one leg off the couch, followed immediately by the other?  It was gone now.  Natasha looked like a cat slinking onto their wooden floor.  And Steve couldn’t wipe the stupid grin off of his face now if he tried.  And boy, he didn’t want to try.  _

_Natasha was head-to-toe, covered in sweats.  In an old pair she kept at the FBI for cases like this one.  When they needed to shower and have a change of clothes for debriefing and processing.  It was just a simple, dark grey hooded sweatshirt and pants, with white athletic socks.  Her hair was in a loose ponytail, and she didn’t have a stitch of makeup on._

_She’d never looked more seductive to Steve with the look she had in her eyes._

_Steve was more than attentive as Natasha peeked over her shoulder, grinning as she walked over to the little table besides their gas fireplace she just turned on.  The flames came to life as she powered on their iPod and stereo.  And she flipped to a song, that had her grin growing wider.  Her back was turned, but he watched her every move, taking in her reflection off of the television hanging above the mantle._

_He tried to play it cool, but he was feeling a little unhinged, knowing that every dirty thought in his head, was matched by the salacious ones in hers._

_The truth was, Natasha had picked up **nothing** at all, besides the immediate need to shower the minute she left King Pins over the last few weeks.  She didn’t learn how to use a stripper pole or give a lap dance.  Let’s just say they weren’t on her to do lists.  _

_But she felt like a weight had been lifted right now, and she needed Steve to feel that carefree feeling too.  Pushing away any hesitation, debating if she was really going to attempt this or not…she just said, ‘Fuck it,’ internally, and pushed play._

_Standing upright with her back to Steve, Natasha ran her hands down her thighs, almost like she was smoothing over a slip.  Glancing over her shoulder one more time, she winked at him as the music started to play._

_Baby take off your coat_   
_Real Slow_   
_And take off your shoes_   
_I’ll take off your shoes_   
_Baby take off your dress_   
_Yes yes yes_

_You can leave your hat on_   
_You can leave your hat on_   
_You can leave your hat on_

_Steve chuckled right when Joe Cocker’s voice first started singing, ‘Baby take off your coat.’  He gave a single loud clap, before running his hand over his mouth to take a deep breath.  He clearly approved of her song choice, but still had no idea what he was in store for._

_What he **did** have an idea of, was just how much he fucking loved Natasha Romanoff.  _

_By the time she turned around at the end of the first lyric, Steve started to realize what Natasha was thinking…and doing right now.  And as a result, any control over his frazzled emotions went right out the window.  The woman in front of him was in complete control as her hips slowly started to move.  The song had just started, but she was already successful with her little seduction charade._

_Lifting her arms up toward the ceiling, a sliver of pink skin emerged on her stomach.  Only a few seconds in, and her arms disappeared through the cuffs of her sweatshirt.  And Steve was already gripping the end of the couch, feeling a little like a teenage boy about to look at his first naked woman._

_That’s how badly he wanted to see more of her right now._

_Natasha said it earlier to Maria and Wanda.  She wasn’t a trained dancer.  But her and Steve had taken lessons once, and she could follow a beat pretty well.  Beyond that though, she was with the man she loved more than anything, and felt sexy as hell with the way he was staring at her._

_Rigid body.  Chiseled and smooth jaw.  Dark eyes.  All the signs were there.  Steve was already loving this, and it’d only just begun._

_Natasha’s fingers taunted, as they emerged from the hem of her sweatshirt while the melody played, telling her to take off more clothes.  She obliged, and the baggy hoodie was off and flying towards the door._

_She was dancing on a wire right now, where part of her felt like bursting out into a fit of laughter, and the other part felt like running over to Steve and ending this already to just feel his hands and mouth.  But Natasha kept going.  Because riding that line, not knowing what side she was going to land on in this little dance, was as thrilling to her as it was to him._

_And Natasha was clearly turned on._

_Only in her sweats and socks, and his Army chain over her sports bra, nipples protruded as purple fabric stretched.  Steve wet his lips as she twirled toward an end table, where his Dodgers hat seemed to be waiting for her.  A shake of her head as the ponytail came out.  A swirl of her waist as she arched her back.  And another goddamn wink as she followed the direction of the song, settling his cap over her red tresses of hair._

_Steve was pretty sure if someone were to take a picture of him, he would look like someone with slack jaw.  It wasn’t that she was giving him a professional striptease.  It was that she was Natasha. **His** Natasha, giving him his own personal striptease.  This side of them?  It was only for each other.  Just the two of them in their own little world.  _

_Patience was dwindling, and he was already moving to get off the couch.  Natasha could tell, but she wagged her finger at him flirtatiously, silently saying, ‘Don’t you dare.’  How could he argue with that?  Arguing was over as he settled back into his seat._

_Go on over there_   
_Turn on the light_   
_No all the lights_   
_Come over here_   
_Stand on this chair_   
_That’s right_   
_Raise your arms up into the air_   
_Now shake ‘em_   
_You give me a reason to live_   
_You give me a reason to live_   
_You give me a reason to live_   
_You give me a reason to live_   
_Sweet darling_

_You can leave your hat on_   
_You can leave your hat on_   
_Feeling_   
_You can leave your hat on_   
_You can leave your hat on_   
_You can leave your hat on_   
_You can leave your hat on_

_Laughter and desire.  Running hot and cold, as burning hormones met flushed skin and cool air._

_It was all an exhilarating mixture to say the least._

_The gravelly vocals ordered her to turn on all the lights, and Natasha strutted toward the door, locked it tight, and did the opposite, leaving only the fire burning bright._

_The glowing ambiance accentuated each and every one of her moves now.  A turn.  A twist of her hips.  And then Natasha was right there, taunting him with wild eyes and a wicked grin._

_Standing before him like some temptress, each sock slid off and was thrown to the side.  Her toes teased, dancing along his thigh before finding the floor again.  And Steve’s throat went dry as Natasha’s fingers followed.  Splaying her hands on his uninjured leg and bending over, her cleavage bounced before his eyes blown wide._

_Steve was warm before, but he felt like a furnace now, gaping at that inviting crease in her chest.  And their burning desire grew, both begging to touch and be touched, but holding off for a little while more._

_How could Natasha make taking her socks off sexy?_

_Steve didn’t know nor care because blood travelled south and his pulsing dick blocked out all coherent thought.  He wanted her.  Natasha knew it and savored each thought unravelling inside her.  But this was a tease after all…so she moved away quick, leaving him only with a titillating taste._

_Natasha felt a little delirious with her brain moving a mile a minute, but she didn’t stop to think.  She just kept moving.  Pulling a chair from their table, she was back in front of Steve seconds later.  Running her hand along the back of it.  Circling it.  Glancing at him and then standing on the wooden seat above him._

_Steve couldn’t get enough.  Craning his neck, he watched every writhing motion of her body, until their eyes met again in that magnetic pull.  Somewhere over the last 30 seconds, the playful mood had darkened.  He could see it in her pupils.  He could feel it in his own._

_Steve’s own personal striptease in the middle of their living room._

_Natasha’s own personal stage on the chair in front of him._

_He had always been so easily enthralled by her.  Her looks and body, yes.  Someone would have to be blind not to notice how attractive Natasha was.  But it was **so** much more than that.  How Steve felt in these moments…It was because of their connection and chemistry and love.  It was felt deep within both of them.  _

_The safety and security.  The love and lust.  The strength from them being together in every way._

_Natasha gazed down at him, and Steve couldn’t help it.  Right on cue with the lyrics, he mouthed to her, “You give me a reason to live.”  With a surge of heat churning through her stomach, she simply responded with, “I know, sweet darling,” and blew a kiss._

_Was it all a little hammy and over the top?  Yes.  So, over the top._

_But it was something that was also needed after the three weeks they’d had.  It was something they didn’t even know they needed.  It was the good after the bad._

_And all of it, only made Steve claw a little more at the end of the couch as he pressed down into the cushion to just feel a little friction.  To just feel…something.  Natasha was driving him positively crazy right now as his jeans became a little uncomfortable.  And the discomfort **definitely** wasn’t due to his banged-up knee. _

_By the time the second chorus arrived, the music was in perfect harmony with her slow undulations.  Like a genie out of a bottle, or a cattail in the wind, she swayed and coiled, enticing him with every curve.  And the tension only grew as her pants peeled away, revealing every creamy inch of thigh underneath._

_His breath was shaky.  And her pants pooled at her feet.  They were around Steve’s face next as she flung them his way.  He laughed and then groaned, catching the scent of her bodywash before tossing them aside.  As unrestrained as he felt, he couldn’t move.  He was completely lost in her as she stepped back to the floor._

_Only covered by his hat and chain, and her bra and Navy cotton underwear, Natasha was officially wearing more inches of clothing than she had on over the last three weeks.  But all Steve could think, was that she looked sexier now than she ever did in that stupid uniform.  That was a fallacy.  This was real and so much better.  This was **her.** And now she was tempting him with every move and breath, provoking a fantasy that neither of them knew was ever wanted or needed. _

_Sharp moves followed the next beats of the song.  Palms spread onto the seat of the chair.  Her back bowed as her ass perched in the air.  Another spin, and she was sitting perfectly straight with her legs squeezed together._

_And then Natasha’s hands were on her knees, spreading her thighs open wide, grinding down to the sensual blends of music and her own moaning in the air.  Fingertips followed a line up her leg until she stopped at the Navy seam and bit her lip down hard._

_A titillating taste indeed._

_“Fuck.”_

_Steve muttered the word without even realizing it as he took in every gyration and groan.  And as she stood tall and turned, shimmying that derriere that he loved so damn much._

_It was funny that Steve kept looking at Natasha, like she would reveal something he hadn’t seen before.  When in fact, it was all something he’d seen and drawn and touched a thousand times.  None of that mattered though.  And it didn’t matter that she was in a sports bra and mismatched underwear either._

_Beauty was in the eye of the beholder._

_And to Steve?  She was so goddamn beautiful in moments like these.  Feeling carefree.  Losing herself in a moment with him.  Feeling fully immersed in their life.  Their bubble.  Their love.  It was something they’d created and fought for.  It was only for each other.  And it only increased the stimulating nature of this whole charade._

_It was something they’d have to fight for, harder than they could ever imagine in the future.  But that was a story for a different day._

_Today’s story was about how much Steve wanted to ravish his girlfriend right now, as Natasha used the back of the chair for balance and more taunting moves, keeping her eyes on him the entire time.  Bending over as she touched her toes.  Snapping back up as she ran her fingers up her thighs.  And then toying with the band of her panties, as the tips of her fingers traveled inside an inch and then two._

_Steve responded with his own moves.  Raising blood pressure.  Sweat forming at the base of his neck.  A blush creeping up on his smooth cheeks…And plump lips being licked as he imagined what was inside where her fingers just were._

_He caught the blush creeping up her own neck too as she turned to face him for the last time.  And Steve slipped his shoes off on the floor.  He couldn’t help it.  Sitting still was getting to be an option...no more._

_Suspicious minds a talkin’_   
_Try’n to tear us apart_   
_They don’t believe_   
_In this love of mine_   
_They don’t know I love you_   
_They don’t know what love is_   
_They don’t know what love is_   
_They don’t know what love is_

_I know what love is_   
_Sweet darling_

_You can leave your hat on_   
_You can leave your hat on_   
_Feeling_   
_You can leave your hat on_   
_You can leave your hat on_

_Natasha was done staying away.  Her nerves were sputtering inside and honestly, she didn’t know if she could think of any more moves before she burst into a fit of giggles or actually combusted and begged Steve to touch her.  Her dance on that razor thin wire was done, and she needed to make a move._

_A dramatic swerve to the left and then the right, and Natasha was within an arm’s reach of him.  The rumble in his throat was rough as his words traveled through her ears and into every nerve ending in her body, “It’s about time.  Any longer, and I would’ve chased you down.”_

_Natasha saw Steve’s fingers digging into the arm of the sofa a little harder as she smirked at him, “Good things come to those that wait, Rogers.”  Closing the distance, she finally touched him again, running her hands up and down his pantlegs first.  She took his socks off, one-by-one.  Never missing an opportunity though, she grazed her nails along the bottoms of his feet._

_Steve jerked from the stimulation and shook his head at her._

_Playful.  Stubborn.  Heated._

_The atmosphere was filled with all three, and he’d had enough of the first two._

_First his ankles.  Then his calves.  And then his thighs.  Her hands kept moving, rubbing slowly along his jeans and carefully avoiding his knee.  Each time, she moved a little farther north.  A little more towards what was causing him to look at her like she was a glass of whiskey he wanted to swallow in one gulp._

_“Natasha.”_

_“Shh,” she silenced him, puckering her lips as she shoved his legs apart.  Bracing herself on his upper thighs, she leaned toward him like she was leaning over the chair a minute ago, “Quiet, Soldier.  I’m trying to show you all that I learned, remember?”_

_By now, the big secret was revealed…Natasha really hadn’t learned a damn thing working at King Pins.  That didn’t matter to either one of them._

_Letting his inseam be her guide, Natasha’s fingers trailed up the insides of his thighs.  Inching closer and closer to him.  Until she finally brushed over where he needed her.  A stifled sound came out of Steve as she cupped the bulge within the confine of his pants.  And Natasha realized just how uncomfortable he was as she lifted her brow, “All that for me?”_

_“Fuck, yeah it is, Nat.”_

_It felt incredible.  Knowing that she could turn him on so much, just like this.  Just by being them._

_Fumbling fingers were on his belt next, as the metal clasps sounded.  Her greediness revealed itself, as she grabbed the thick leather and yanked hard, freeing it from his pants.  Steve’s nostrils flared, huffing out a breath.  And Natasha rested a knee between his thighs as she began working on his shirt._

_Driving him crazy was putting it mildly._

_Steve slipped his jacket off and tossed it to the side._

_“That was my job,” she smirked.  But Natasha kept moving, starting with the bottom button as her knee nudged into him a little now.  Steve shut his eyes for a second, before opening them up again to stare at her through a shaky breath, “I wanna touch you, Nat.”_

_“Not yet.”_

_The fact that Natasha was driving this train fully, directing his every move.  The fact that she purposefully kept his hands from touching her right now.  The push and pull only aroused him (and her) even more.  She could feel that arousal against her knee.  And she could feel it in between her legs as a warmth pooled in one of the only two pieces of fabric she was still wearing._

_Another two buttons were undone, and she couldn’t wait anymore.  Natasha grabbed both ends and pulled hard as three buttons scattered to the floor.  Steve’s blue flannel hung open.  And then it was off and behind the couch, and his undershirt was pulled off almost as quick.  She held it in her hands and shrugged her shoulders as she tossed it behind her this time, fully sprinkling the room with their clothing now._

_A rush of movements followed.  Pants were unbuttoned.  Natasha stood back up as he lifted himself off the couch.  A tug and a couple of pulls later, they were off, along with his boxers.  Minus the nude bandage wrapped around his knee, Steve was fully exposed as he found his seat again._

_Red tip and leaking.  Steve was rock hard.  He sounded even more desperate this time._

_“Natasha.”_

_She was filled with depraved thoughts, and he was filled with incoherent ones.  And it was all so delicious.  Natasha turned around, slipping her hands through her sports bra as smoothly as she could.  It wasn’t smooth.  But she could’ve been doing the robot right now, and Steve would’ve thought she was pirouetting like a ballerina._

_The fog was thick, and they both had a one-track mind._

_Right on cue as the last line of the song came through, and as she was lifting her bra overhead, Steve spoke in a raspy tone, “You can leave your hat on.”_

_He might as well have been blowing on her skin with that deep register in his voice, because goosebumps emerged at the sound.  Natasha turned around again, and all Steve could see was a blur of images.  Red hair escaping from his Dodgers hat.  Long legs of milky skin.  Her graceful neck leading him to her breasts.  And two pink and erect nipples staring right at him._

_She saw his lashes flutter as his eyes opened and shut.  He was straining not to touch her.  He was straining not to touch himself.  But this little game was more than provocative.  It was erotic as fuck and Steve wanted everything Natasha was willing to give._

_The jazzy beats to the music were dying out, and over the last five seconds of the song, Natasha slid her panties down her thighs.  Her cool veneer had faded as she let out an airy breath._

_“Steve.”_

_It may have been an erotic game, but it was over.  Because as he took in her full form, staring at her hips and naval, and the flash of red leading him south…one thing was absolutely clear.  He needed her now, “Natasha get over her.”_

_Giddy with desire, Natasha was back in front of him as another song started playing.  What it was, or what the lyrics were, neither one could tell in that moment.  Because the air had thickened, muting everything else, outside of their bubble._

_Much to Steve’s surprise, Natasha lowered herself, kneeling between his legs.  She leaned over and kissed his bruised and bandaged knee, and then smiled at him as she put her hand around his cock._

_His poor leaking cock, begging for her relief._

_“Fuck, Nat.”_

_Running her thumb along his leaking tip, she brushed back and forth, pulling several heavy breaths from him.  He wanted to taste her.  He wanted to feel all of her.  He wanted to be inside of her.  More than anything, but god Steve couldn’t move.  He fully succumbed to Natasha, knowing he would do anything she asked of him in that moment._

_And he loved her all the more for it._

_Natasha tipped the bill of his cap up a little on her head._

_If it was possible to look like the most adorable woman in the world at the same time as looking sexy as hell, she’d mastered it.  Smirking at him again as she came closer, Steve was utterly powerless.  All he could do was watch Natasha’s every move as his breathing increased.  He saw her puckered mouth slide over him.  His pre-come coat her luscious red lips.  And her wrist relax, as her fingers wrapped around his base._

_And fuck, he couldn’t help it as his head fell back against the sofa.  Steve didn’t know how the hell he got so lucky, but he wasn’t going to question it.  Natasha started kissing softly around his tip, making him think she was going to go slow, but she surprised him again._

_Stroking his shaft, with her fingers and thumb and mouth all playing their parts, a moan came out of her as she dipped her head lower.  Dragging her tongue along, Natasha followed the thick vein underneath, covering every inch of him from root to tip.  Steve sounded like a broken record, because all that came out of him were grunts and ragged breaths, until he finally husked out, “Fuck, Nat,” a little louder this time._

_Natasha knew he was going to try and stop her.  To move inside her or take control soon.  So, she thought of another distraction.  Honestly?  She needed a little release too, from how warm she was between her thighs.  Her other hand skirted down between her legs as she took him in her mouth._

_Lips forming an O.  Pushing over his ridge.  Purring against his pulsing red flesh._

_Steve was at a loss for words.  And then he caught Natasha’s other movement.  Her own fingers finding her lower lips, pushing inside and feeling how soaking wet she already was for him._

_Right on cue, Steve’s hand found her shoulder, trying to guide her up.  He needed to kiss her, but she had other plans right now.  Her fingers slipped out of her as she took more of him in.  He shouldn’t have been surprised, but he couldn’t think straight.  The next thing he knew, coated fingers were running along his parted lips, “Jesus Christ, Natasha.  You’re going to kill me.”_

_But that was all he said, because he was licking her insides off her hand next as her bobbing began._

_Moaning.  Heaving.  Sounds of saliva along his length._

_It all mixed with some faded music in the background.  Her fingers hooked inside his mouth as she rubbed her thighs together.  Sucking a little harder.  Moving a little faster.  Steve lifted his hips, meeting her mouth as his hands finally moved again.  A gentle grip on her shoulder with one.  And pulling her hand from his mouth with the other.  He kissed her palm, lacing their fingers together as muffled words came out, “Natasha, I’m not gonna last long.”_

_She pulled on their joined hands, pushing them into the couch to find a little friction.  A little leverage.  To feel a little more of Steve as she took him all in now.  Natasha was as far down as she could go, humming and feeling his tip prod against the back of her throat.  Slow movements followed.  A couple inches up, and a couple back down as her eyes began to water.  And then her wrist resumed its position, stroking faster and faster now._

_“Natasha.  God…Nat,” Steve strained, struggling to keep his eyes open.  Their hands squeezed tightly together.  And Natasha grazed him with her teeth, with the gentlest of touches._

_It was all on the right side of almost too much.  Her hand moved quicker, pumping up and down as her lips hovered over the ridge, before sliding back and forth and back and forth again.  And then Natasha felt it.  A shudder.  A grunt.  And the flexing of Steve’s thighs as she felt the warm sensation in her mouth.  He was over the edge, coming inside her as she sucked and swallowed, making sure she drank every last drop.  She moved off of him with a soft pop and licked her lips clean._

_And her fucking hat was still on._

_Steve’s breathing was heavy and uneven, “Fuck me, Nat.  Jesus.”_

_“Oh, I intend to, Steve.  I’ll give you a little breather though, don’t worry.”_

_Steve felt like he was on fire, but he had no intention of taking any sort of break, “Get up on this couch now.”_

_Steve patted the seat next to her, and she looked at him with worry, “Your knee.”  He shook his head, “I’ll live.  I need…Fuck, Nat, I wanna make you feel good.”  Right now, Natasha was wondering how in the hell she got so lucky too._

_She went to sit on the couch and was a little embarrassed as she realized just how aroused she was.  Grabbing his flannel shirt that she’d tossed aside earlier, she laughed at Steve, “I figured I already ruined it.”  She sat down on it as Steve leaned over to grab the back of her neck, “I’ve been wanting to do this since we walked through that door.”  His lips were on hers a second later as she let out a sigh and fell into his touch._

_Steve was all over the place, internally.  He was still calming down from a moment ago, but the urge to go down on Natasha was so much stronger.  Awkwardly sliding off the couch onto one knee, Steve kept his left leg as straight as he could.  Yes, he was hurt, but his craving overruled any discomfort.  And any pain felt tomorrow, would be more than worth it._

_Looking down at Natasha, Steve grabbed the end of his cap on her head and wiggled it a little as they both let out a laugh._

_And then he was in his familiar spot between her legs, cupping the backs of her knees and tugging her towards the edge of the cushion.  A soft little yelp came out in surprise as Steve pulled Natasha’s body, directly towards his mouth.  The way she looked right now, heaving breaths and parted legs.  Red lips that gave him so many moments of pleasure.  And that goddamn hat.  Her look and feel…and her scent.  It was all so intoxicating, making him want to taste her even more._

_Steve knew right then he wasn’t going to need nearly as long to grow hard again.  He started slow with sensual moves.  Palms running up and over her knees.  Spreading her open a little wider as she drew her lip between her teeth.  It was all a lead up.  The prologue…with the curves of his hands gliding over soft skin until they finally rested in the grooves of her inner thighs._

_The warm air increased.  And a nervous breath came out of both of them because they both knew what was next.  Feeling her soft and damp curls, Steve inched closer and closer to her center.  And then he felt her.  His thumb brushed inside her folds.  And god, it was like liquid heat._

_A throaty groan came out of him instantly, and a breathy whine out of her.  Steve grinned at Natasha, being the ever-teasing little shit that he relished in these moments, “All this for me?”  She wanted to laugh, but she couldn’t.  A pleasure-filled sound escaped her instead, feeling as wound as she was while he was throwing her own words back in her face, “Fuck yeah it is, Steve.”_

_Steve wasn’t trying to waste time.  He was simply enjoying every second, taking every part of Natasha in.  He’d gotten a small taste from her fingers before, and he wanted more, now that he was so close._

_Only inches away, he brushed his nose along the junction of her thighs as he closed the distance.  Steve was gentle, kissing her swollen peak first, not wanting to overwhelm her right away.  Lips tracing downward, he found the inviting warmth.  Farther and farther, he kept teasing.  He kept tasting, brushing along the outside…taunting her, until he was finally at the base of her core._

_Natasha could feel Steve’s humid breaths coming out, blanketing her as he held back.  It was maddening as she tried to wriggle her hips, but he stopped her.  Pushing down around her belly button, he could feel the trembling underneath._

_Their eyes met for a moment.  A standoff with her begging silently and him loving every second.  But then Steve saw her toes, curling into the floor.  It was just enough of a push, and his teasing stopped.  Wetting his lips, his tongue was inside her a second later.  Splaying his hand over her stomach, he pushed down and licked up.  Lusting after her slick, he moved from bottom to top and took all of her in._

_Steve finally found what he’d been hungry for, ever since he got a taste from her fingers.  Ever since she first pushed play on the stereo._

_Warmth and wet and wanting._

_There was nothing like it.  The first taste of her on her fingers.  The first feel of her with his own.  The first lick with his tongue.  It consumed both of them, always._

_A throaty cry came out of her as he lapped along, immersing his tongue inside her.  Steve would lose himself sometimes in these moments, completely rapt with her every breath and move.  Soaked sounds.  Heaving breasts.  Yes, he was fully engrossed in her as coveted thoughts ran rampant.  And as he drank every needy drop of her in.  Natasha squirmed against his mouth as much as he’d allow.  But he kept his hold on her, with his hurt leg stretched out to the side.  Steve kept all the pressure on his other knee as he licked a little deeper now._

_To feel what he did to her.  To smell and taste and see.  To hear how turned on she was by him…and both of them together.  Steve felt like he could almost go mad too.  Not caring about anything else but their own little world.  Forgetting about every thought and worry outside their door._

_That’s what she did to him._

_It was always so much, but never felt like enough._

_Natasha looked down at him as her fingers found her nipples, tugging and pulling at them harder than usual.  The sensation was exquisite.  She was so turned on, that there was no discomfort at all._

_“Yes, fuck, Steve.  Right there.”_

_She gnawed on her lip as he looked up at her again.  Wearing his hat.  Eyes barely open.  Squeezing and playing with her nipples.  Her hips begging for more with her thighs squeezing around him._

_And he felt the stirring within right now as blood started to travel south again.  She was moving more, trying to fuck his tongue instead of the other way around.  Who was winning, neither could tell, but he pushed down and tried to keep her still._

_They both needed a little more during this battle, so his hand joined the fight.  First one finger.  And then two, as her aching pussy swallowed them whole.  Pumping in and out, Steve didn’t let up as he found her clit.  Kissing above her lips.  Sucking relentlessly and sinking farther and farther in._

_Everything moved quicker now._

_Soft whines.  Swirling emotions.  Squeezes on her swollen breasts._

_His devouring tongue and soaked fingers, plunging in and out and around her.  Natasha finally lowered a hand, raking her fingers through his hair as she pulled a little too hard, but it was all just enough._

_“God.  Fuck, Steve.  Yes.”_

_Steve finally released his hold over her waist and found her hand as they held onto her breast together.  Natasha immediately picked up the slack he’d given her, writhing against his mouth now.  Bucking against the rhythm of his fingers slipping in and out of her.  They both could tell it wasn’t going to be much longer._

_Natasha couldn’t hold back.  Flexing her legs harder.  Holding his hand tighter.  Her breaths became uneven with each thrust of her hips.  With each sensual second that passed._

_“Please…Steve, Please…”_

_That’s all that came out as he sucked with more fervor.  Natasha was approaching the edge, and Steve turned his fingers over inside, hooking against her swollen walls with each graze.   Another lick, another squeeze, and another press of his fingers, and she was there._

_She hugged him tight with her thighs, holding him in place as he kissed her through her collapse.  Her hips convulsed as a long and low cry spilled out.  Spasms around his fingers followed.  And the feeling of warmth was everywhere as she came._

_Her panting evened out as Natasha pressed the back of her hand against her eyes, trying to take what just happened in.  That’s exactly how Steve felt.  Like he could pinch himself because this was so goddamn good.  So passionate.  So perfect for what they needed._

_Steve kissed around her, soothing along her inner thigh and then up around her hip.  And then her stomach.  Natasha grabbed both of his hands and helped him resume his spot on the couch where he was before.  It took a few extra seconds, but the first thing she noticed, was that Steve was almost hard again._

_She laughed, a little in disbelief, “What’s gotten into you, Steve?”_

_“Fuck, Nat.  I could ask the same of you”_

_There they both sat, side-by-side.  Disheveled and debauched.  In a blissful state already, from their orgasms that could only be described as overwhelming.  But this was Steve and Natasha.  And this was them in rare form right now.  Last night, Steve had been desperate to touch and memorize every part of her, worrying about the mission today._

_But right now?  It was different.  Their yearning was a craving that wasn’t satiated.  A hunger that wasn’t satisfied.  And they both needed more._

_Natasha chuckled, grinning at Steve as she finally took the Dodgers cap and tossed it on the floor.  Steve scooted away from the arm of the sofa, knowing that she was about to come a little closer.  And she did.  She stood over him with a little wobble from how positively wrecked she felt.  Finding his hands for support, she bent over and kissed his knee.  And for a second she paused, looking a little worried, “Are you sure you’re not too hurt, Steve?”_

_Steve smirked and started pulling her hands and as a result, her entire body down toward him, “I promise you I’m telling you the truth, when I say this is the **best** my knee has felt all night.  Besides, I don’t plan on you being anywhere near it, Nat.”_

_Natasha laughed again, “God, you’re such a little shit, Steve.”  He pulled a little harder, and Natasha draped her knees over both sides of his thighs, letting her ass settle in the cradle of his hold.  She let out a rousing sigh.  His fully hard cock brushed against her tender flesh.  And that was all it took, for her to go from being a tad too sensitive, to feeling like her insides were overheating again._

_Steve sat back against the couch, pulling her close by the small of her back and digging into those adorable dimples at the top of her ass.  Her chest was flush against his now as her breath hit his neck.  As her nipples brushed against his.  As his own breathing increased, blowing heated air along her pulse._

_Natasha looked deep in his eyes as she ran her fingers gently through his hair.  The need was urgent as ever, but the frantic edge from before had retreated a little, leaving them right here.  Against each other and moving slow as she claimed his lips with all the love and care in the world._

_Beckoning for more, she felt a gravelly sound come deep from within his chest.  Her ass pushed down, feeling another graze between them.  His fingers pressed a little harder, and their kiss became a little deeper.  Their tongues finally found one another as he licked her lips and she responded in kind._

_Harsh pants of breath.  Soft breathless moans.  Sounds of both of their orgasms lingering from before._

_They pleaded to each other, without any actual words right now.  Understanding each other.  Knowing each other inside and out.  It was felt in the field and in each part of their life.  But it was felt even more right now.  Their kiss turned feverish and unpredictable with the growing temperature between them._

_Flexing his ass and thighs, Steve lifted against her straddling hold.  Just a little.  Just enough, to tease his now thirsty cock against her wanting pussy.  His moan turned into a grunt.  Her pants of breath into a whisper, “Steve, I love you.”_

_Caressing her back, Steve slid his hand over her shoulder as he cupped her cheek.  In some ways, he was acting just like he did last night, painting her skin with his touch and tangling his fingers into her hair.  Both of their eyes were dilated and dark, but he still found a little green as he looked at her, “I love you too.  So much, Nat.”_

_Natasha was about to start kissing his neck, but Steve couldn’t wait anymore.  He pulled back a little on her hair, stopping as he looked at her again and rubbed along her slick folds._

_“I want to look at you, Natasha.”_

_He wanted to see how her eyes expanded as he slid into her.  He wanted it.  And she needed it as a little whine came out, “Fuck.”  Natasha didn’t want to wait anymore either.  Lowering her hand between them, she grasped his rigid cock and guided the way._

_Tilting her hips, Steve supported her from behind.  And then he was at her entrance.  Natasha’s mouth opened wide, pressing down as his eyes narrowed in focus.  He held her neck tight as they both moved together.  As they stared at each other the entire time.  First the tip.  Then the ridge.  Then every delicious inch swallowed whole as she sank down onto him._

_A choked sound from Steve.  A hoarse breath from Natasha.  They felt flushed from the heat inside and around them.  From molding together as they adjusted to the feel of him filling her._

_Steve’s hands skimmed up her chest and back down again, before settling back on her waist.  Her perfect curves that felt like they were made just for him.  It’s how he felt from their very first time on._

_He was throbbing inside of her, “God you are gorgeous, Nat.”  She shut her eyes for a second.  And then Natasha arched her back as a slow rock of her hips followed.  The first move as she started this dance.  The actual dance that her striptease was all building to.  To them finally feeling and filling all of each other._

_Steve was here for where Natasha was taking him right now.  Because she wasn’t just stunning.  She was breathtaking.  She felt the same exact way as her eyes found his again, “You’re not so bad yourself, Steve.”_

_She moved a little more, writhing against him now as his fingers pressed into her skin._

_“Natasha.”_

_The hunger kicked up a notch, with him grabbing her hips now, pulling down and lifting up into her as they fell in sync.  It made each motion a little deeper.  Each thrust a little harder._

_She picked up the pace as wet sounds and rasped breathing increased.  Natasha dug her nails into Steve’s shoulders as she started bouncing up and down now, over and over again on his cock.  No words came out.  Just the look in their eyes as every sense swamped the air around them.  The feel of their fingers digging into the skin underneath.  The scent of musk and sweat between them.  And the taste of her still in his mouth as he sat up to feel more._

_Sliding her hands around his back, Natasha held him in place as their lips became lost in a longing kiss.  She moaned into his mouth and found his tongue once more.  Her breasts fell in rhythm too, rising and falling against his chest.  Steve pulled her even closer, skimming his hands along her spine as he hugged and held her tight._

_Each move drew them closer.  Each grind and thrust.  And each buck and bounce.  Until they were so close that they could only rut against each other.  Every move was felt in and around where they were joined.  It was sloppy and no longer coordinated as her fingers dug into the meat of his back.  And as his arms tightened around her even more.  Natasha’s lips ran along his jaw before finding his neck as she whispered, “Steve, I’m close.”_

_It was slow again.  And deep and hard._

_And with each one of those slow drawn out thrusts, they stepped toward the edge.  They felt warmer.  They felt closer as the sweat pooled between the creases of their thighs._

_“I’m right there too, Nat.”_

_Natasha sucked at his neck, and Steve kissed at her pulse, both moving frantically now.  Both covering each other’s skin with hot and sticky breaths._

_Steve felt her tense first as a strangled cry came out of her.  Needing to be there with her, he grabbed her hips again, and drove into her repeatedly.  One, two, and three more times, until his body tensed too._

_She tightened around him, milking him as they came together.  As they dissolved into ecstasy, with nothing between them except skin and sweat and slick sounds.  Each spasm.  Each jerk.  Each push and pull and purr that came out was felt throughout their bodies.  Until he was spilling into her swollen walls.  Until only a mantra of repeated words came out of them in the softest of breaths._

_“I love you.”_

_“I love you.”_

_“I love you.”_

_Over and over again, breathing and holding each other through it all._

_Soft kisses followed as he stayed inside her.  Up Natasha’s neck.  Along Steve’s jaw.  Until they found each other’s lips again.  He held her protectively.  And she held onto him like she didn’t ever want to let go.  What had started light and playful, turned intense and profound as it often did with their repeated statements of love.  And now, they were coming down from a high, that left them satiated and sleepy._

_Steve groaned a little as he held her tight and started to stand._

_“Steve, your knee.”_

_“Natasha, your so goddamn light, I probably won’t even be able to tell.  I don’t want to let you go right now.  So, shush.  Just let me carry my beautiful girlfriend to bed, okay?”  A light laugh came out of her, feeling a little dizzy as she thought of where the day started, and then the turn of events that it took, and finally, where they were right now._

_Steve got up slowly, slipping out of her as she sighed.  But she wrapped her legs around him and held on tight.  As he gingerly walked them back to the bedroom with a limp, being careful of his knee._

_They stayed wrapped in each other all the way to the bedroom.  And Natasha looked back at their living room and smiled.  A rain cloud of fabric left scattered showers of clothing all over the place.  The stereo was still playing.  But whatever song was on, they didn’t care or take notice.  Many more songs would play that night, and they wouldn’t remember any of them.  But they’d never forget the one that started it all._

_They fell asleep with twined hands and in a tangle of limbs, knowing the bad guy was put away.  That they were both alive and safe at the end of the day.  And that their team was stronger together, more so than ever before._

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well…whew. That 8 years ago scene was a heck of a lot of fun to write. I hope you enjoyed the little peak into their time as a team during their 5 years together. And yeah, it rivaled 19 as far as possibly the steamiest thing I’ve written between them – can you blame me? This story kind of calls for it, and honestly, I needed a little fun before I push ‘go’ on the next few chapters. This was kind of a calming before the storm. I say that, fully knowing how emotionally compromised I am with these characters and this story. 
> 
> I am not ashamed to admit, that there were even a few scenes in this chapter that caused me to shed some tears. 
> 
> You all are just the best, and I will say it every dang time – thank you. Thank you, thank you. This started as a seed about a year ago when I first thought of the first little plot line of this story, and started jotting some notes down…which soon grew as a Frankenstein style monster in my brain, and then I posted the first chapter in March of this year. My enjoyment and writing of this story of course began, because of my adoration of the MCU and my love of crime dramas, etc. 
> 
> But boy oh boy, you have all taken that little morphed monster in my brain and my investment in this story…and made it so much…more. My enjoyment has become that much richer. And my love for these characters has only deepened, in large part because of all of you. So again, I say thank you 😊
> 
> Oh and of course. How can I forget…Joe Cocker’s ‘You Can Leave Your Hat On,’ gave me inspiration for a big part of the last scene. Did I over indulge? Maybe. Would I do it again? Abso-effing-lutely. I would probably even add a few extra beats. If you haven’t watched the clip of his song, to 9 ½ weeks (the movie from the 80’s), go and watch it. It’s like 4 minutes. It’s kind of the most adorable part of that movie, and welp – Steve & Nat just fit perfectly. At least with where they were in their life 8 years ago in the story. 
> 
> Come follow me on Tumblr @eightieskat to chat about this story, anything Marvel, or anything in general!
> 
> I love hearing from you, so let me know your thoughts on this chapter, and where you think we might be going as this ‘Poseidon Adventure’ keeps ramping up to the climax.
> 
> Have a great weekend everyone!! Cheers!!~~ Kat


	26. Something to be Thankful For

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it has only been a little over two weeks everyone, and here’s your update! In all seriousness, I worked really hard to get this update out by the start of this week. Because of the craziness that’s about to begin with Thanksgiving festivities and family in town, etc, and I’ll be travelling over the following couple of weekends. But consider this my Thanksgiving gift to you all. It’s rather serendipitous when I was able to post it, because the theme ties in well with this week. 
> 
> I’ll say more at the end! 
> 
> Updated timelines are at the end – I split the timeline finally between a past and present timeline summary for you. Updates are in red text. 
> 
> I do hope you enjoy the update and image boards below.

Memories & Reality

I do not own any of this or any part of Marvel or the MCU

Chapter 26 –Something to be Thankful For

* * *

**Present Day –** Task-Force Compound

_It was bright.  It was hot.  It was almost suffocating._

_Tan and beige coloring saturated the bleak surroundings.  Skin was sweaty and mouths were dry.  And Steve stood under the blistering sun beating down from overhead._

_Everything seemed to burn, standing in the desolate landscape._

_Skin burned from the heat.  Eyes burned from sand and dirt finding its way behind the protective covering of sunglasses.  And the mind…The mind burned from the endless days and nights during this latest mission overseas._

_Colonel Phillips’s command was simple to Captain Rogers, “Lead your unit past the secured border.  Find the enemy outpost and take them down.  Save two soldiers that’ve been captured, and in the process, recover the intel the enemy has acquired.”_

_Simple was Phillips’ code for, ‘Goddamn hard as hell, but suck it up because you’re a soldier.’_

_The dirt whipped around, making Steve feel like he was in a heated tornado at times with the high winds and increased temperatures.  The gusts of wind lasted either seconds or minutes.  Steve couldn’t exactly tell, because everything was a little blurry.  Not just the images, but his thoughts and overall awareness._

_But before Steve knew it, he was in the midst of a local village.  Which one?  He couldn’t quite remember either._

_Yes, everything seemed fuzzy right now._

_Steve heard Bucky’s voice which made him turn.  His brother was yelling at a couple of other men to help grab some of the children and get them off the streets.  And then Steve turned his head the other way, because what he heard next wasn’t fuzzy at all.  The distinct popping of gunfire sounded, and then it was all around him, inundating his senses._

_Steve watched his unit work relentlessly as they saved the two captured soldiers.  And then as they recovered the intel.  And then, as they saved as many locals as they could, finally taking out the outpost.  The area was secured and the enemy retreated._

_If Steve really tried to remember this specific memory, he would recall that it was hailed a success._

_Yes, what Phillips had commanded Captain Rogers to do was accomplished.  But there was something different about this memory right now.  Fuzzy and blurry was right.  Steve scanned the site before him again.  This wasn’t about the captured soldiers.  It wasn’t about the enemy even.  And it wasn’t about the intel or Bucky._

_It was about the harsh realization, that everyone didn’t make it out unscathed.  Two of Steve’s men were shot, but they survived and would be sent back to the states soon after that day.  And several of the locals did not survive.  But that wasn’t it either.  No, what this fuzzy memory was about, was a severe lesson in life that’d been beaten into him and his brother in the Army.  And would continue to be beaten into them in the FBI._

_There was a cost.  Not everybody made it out alive.  Not every life could be saved._

_Brutal truths in war, but brutal truths in life as well._

_The gunfire was gone now.  Steve stood as the eerie quiet took over, only to be interrupted by a wailing mother, kneeling over her toddler.  The child was a girl, not even four or five.  She’d been caught in the crossfire.  She was another casualty of war.  A cost.  Another harsh reminder of those unfair lessons that life has to give.  She was another memory lurking in the dark recesses of Steve’s brain, only coming out to say hello when they wanted to._

_This blurred memory?  It was an old one that hadn’t surfaced in quite a few years._

_It was one that continued, shifting again into something different.  And Steve kept staring with that burning sensation in his eyes.  But the burning wasn’t from dirt or heat anymore.  He tried to swallow it away as he stared at the harrowing scene and took in the young girl’s bloodied body, lying in her mother’s shaking arms._

_And suddenly what was fuzzy, started to become clear.  This time the dream was different, and not because of the mother and child.  It was different because of another small child’s voice that snapped Steve’s eyes away._

_Peter._

_Yes, the memory shifted because this was a dream, morphing before his eyes.  Steve’s nephew was standing in the midst of the chaos of sand and sun.  He was standing, sticking out like a sore thumb in a little black suit and tie with his hair slicked over._

_The pitted feeling in Steve’s stomach made itself known._

_It was a crashing of two worlds.  Past and present.  Young and old.  Foreign and domestic.  Peter wasn’t even a twinkle in Bucky and Wanda’s eyes when Steve was on that particular mission with his brother.  Hell, he wasn’t even a dream in either of their heads because Bucky and Wanda hadn’t even met yet.  It was **years** before Steve and Bucky even began at Quantico.  _

_Yes, this dream had an unreliable narrator already.  All dreams did to a certain extent.  But Steve became aware…that this memory wasn’t just off.  It was wrong.  It was the mashing of two worlds that should never co-exist._

_“Peter, what are you doing here?”_

_Steve looked at the innocence on Peter’s face fade away, as he took in the troubling images.  As he looked at the young girl who’d been slaughtered.  Yes, this was a disturbing memory.  But it was one of many from the Army.  And now, that sand storm from before, felt like it was swirling around in Steve’s head right now._

_Right as Steve was about to ask the question, ‘What the hell is going on?’ the ground shifted.  And the dirt and sand beneath his tan boots and camouflaged pants began to rumble.  Steve’s feet began sinking into that shifting ground as he looked around for his nephew, “Peter?”_

_Canvasing the changing scenery, Steve finally found the familiar image of the child he knew so well.  But Peter wasn’t staring at the little girl anymore.  He was crying, not understanding what was going on.  He was crying in his little black suit and tie with that gel in his hair, that almost made him look like a little man.  But his wavering and beautiful little voice gave him away._

_First it was Bucky’s voice.  Then gunfire.  Then silence, followed by the sobs of agony from a mother who’d lost everything.  But now?  It was the innocence of a child that sounded through the air._

_“Why couldn’t you save her, Uncle Steve?  Why couldn’t you save everyone?”_

_A chilling sensation traveled down Steve’s spine.  It felt like he’d been stabbed by Peter’s words.  Sweat pooled at his back, and Steve shook his head, closing his eyes tight.  He knew this was wrong.  He knew the memory in this village was just one of many, but it felt more tainted than ever before.  A successful mission with a blaring exception.  The exception that was forged from the fires of another godawful lesson in life, adding to all the others._

_Sometimes when you win, you still lose._

_But this…was more than that.  The sinking sensation continued as Steve felt the dirt and sand start to surround his ankles and then his boots completely.  It was the physical manifestation of dread taking over.  And it kept going and going, until it finally stopped.  Until Steve’s eyes were wide open again._

_Only now, the tans and beiges, and the beating sun were all gone.  In the blink of an eye, Steve’s world had shifted again.  But there was Peter.  Still standing off to the side, in his little black suit and asking the eerie question again, “Why couldn’t you save her, Uncle Steve?  Why couldn’t you save everyone?”_

_No.  This was wrong._

_It was wrong because this memory felt too right.  Too recent.  And too raw._

_Steve took in everything around him now.  The burning heat was gone.  The sun wasn’t shining.  And there wasn’t a speck of dry sand or dirt around._

_But there was soil.  Soil, that was covered in a lush lawn.  Steve was staring at the green grass on the ground, that lay under his feet.  His feet that were covered in dark brown dress shoes.  Peter had asked the question in that same suit and tie, and gelled hair as he stood off to the side.  And Steve was sitting down, in his own suit that was Navy._

_Saliva formed in his throat because Steve knew **exactly** where he was.  _

_If Peter’s words, and the memory of war from mere seconds ago were eerie, then the feeling that swelled inside him now, was haunting.  Steve wasn’t just confused or creeped out anymore.  His body was ice cold from the terrifying truth he realized he was sitting in._

_The haunted memory continued to play out as Steve soaked in the feel of the graveyard around him.  It was a tiny little spot off to the side that they’d found.  And gray skies loomed overhead as his mother and brother surrounded him.  Wanda was right next to Bucky with Peter in her arms…The actual Peter, only two years of age.  Not the one that was staring at him.  And his close friends were sitting behind him, trying to find any way to support him.  There they all sat on a dark and dreary day.  On a day so raw, that Steve struggled to even watch._

_It was Natasha’s funeral._

_Oh, this was a dreadful time.  Both in Steve’s life when he actually lived it, and then each time he revisited the pained memory in his sleep._

_And each time he dreamt of it, that agonizing feeling of hopelessness invaded his heart again.  How could a memory be so painful, that it could cause his actual body to physically hurt?  Steve didn’t know.  But it was.  And he felt it every time he dreamt of it, over every inch of his skin, and in each finger and toe._

_Steve felt all of that pain as he forced himself to stand, and somehow speak the few words he could that day.  And he felt it as he collapsed to the ground, with his Army chain in hand, and his hand on her stone.  There was no body in the ground, but Natasha was gone.  He’d convinced himself of it.  How he would ever move on from this moment, he didn’t know._

_Despair and hopelessness and pain._

_That’s what he felt each time this haunted dream emerged._

_The sobs and retched feeling came from his stomach as Bucky and Sarah tried to hold him protectively.  Like an old record, this dream was playing out each agonizing song.  Except again, this time…was different.  This time, there was a scratch on that record.  Peter was there.  Still off to the side, causing everything to stop._

_The memory halted as Steve looked back.  The actual Peter from the memory was still in Wanda’s arms as she held him tight and cried.  He was in his little suspenders that were too big for his two-year-old body.  Steve’s brow pinched together as he looked over at his nephew again.  There he was, as a young boy and child, four-years old.  Just as Steve knew him in reality right now._

_There he was, standing in his little black suit and tie, with his grown-up gelled hair, asking that chilling question one last time, “Why couldn’t you save her, Uncle Steve?  Why couldn’t you save everyone?”_

_Somehow, a dream from the most painful time in Steve’s life, had just gotten worse._

* * *

Steve’s eyes shot open.  He was in a cold sweat and felt panic run through him as he sucked in several breaths like his life depended on it.  He looked up at the ceiling.  The high ceiling with exposed piping, running towards an exposed brick wall.

“Oh, thank god.” 

The words came out with a breath, and were almost non-existent.  But they still came out, because Steve realized where he was.  The compound.  He was in their bedroom as he stared at that ceiling, and felt the instant calming presence of Natasha’s body in his arms. 

Oh, thank god indeed. 

Haunted dreams weren’t a new thing for Steve.  But with everything that’d happened the day before, this one felt _too_ real.  To visceral.  He tried to breathe for a second as he held her, but instead, he looked at her with worry.  Her hands had sunk down between them over the last couple of hours, and she was scratching again, over his FBI sweatshirt.  The symptom had never truly stopped, and Bruce warned that it might not ever, but it had been on hiatus for a couple of weeks. 

Steve lowered his hand to find Natasha’s and gently held them as he pulled her in closer, “Nat, wake-up.”

Her brow was pinched and her forehead creased.  Trembling lips followed as Natasha’s breathing quickened.  It was how Steve had looked only a moment ago, “Natasha, it’s Steve.  I’m right here.”

Steve held her hands as he squeezed a little tighter around her, until that unmistakable jolt traveled through her body with enough force for Steve to feel it in his own.  She was awake, but he didn’t let any panic set in as he whispered in her ears, “It’s okay, Nat.  I’m right here.  We’re in our room at Tony’s compound.  You just had a bad dream.  I’m right here.”

Natasha hissed as she took in a sharp breath of air.  She didn’t let another second pass before her arms snaked around his back to pull herself closer. 

She knew she’d tried to scratch again.  She knew she’d had a nightmare from the feel of chilled skin, nerves that were on fire, and the swell of emotions in her body trying to battle fear.  And she knew…from the way Steve was holding her, that he’d just woken up from something too.  It was a pattern they were getting used to.  Different ghosts of memories paying them visits as they slept.  Usually, it was only one of them. 

Over the last few weeks at the compound, the dreams bordering on nightmares had lessened by an impressive amount.  In large part, because of the growth and acceptance Natasha and Steve had found in each other and themselves.  Because they had both started talking with Bruce.  Because they’d both found a way to talk with each other, and let forgiveness into their hearts.  And because as a result of all of it, trust and love growing fervently between them. 

But with the events of yesterday, their minds were racing as their bodies demanded sleep.  They’d only come to bed a couple of hours ago, and now they were awake, being left in the dust from their dreams. 

Natasha lifted her head from his neck, feeling his beard caress her chin as she found his eyes in the dark, “You want to tell me about it, Steve?”

Steve felt a burning again.  But it wasn’t from sand or sun or sobbing at a cemetery. 

Natasha knew what it probably was.  Maybe some twist or turn occurred this time, but it had something to do with her pictures he’d received.  Or her funeral.  Or when he found her in the cabin.  The images that had branded his brain over the last two years.  He didn’t want to talk about though.  Not now.  Not when he was just soaking in the blessed reality that she here with him.  He shook his head instead and simply pulled her closer, “Do you want to tell me about it, Nat?”

Tears had leaked out of her eyes as she realized that she’d woken up in the safety of his arms.  An almost natural response at this point.  Steve still held her securely as he lifted a hand to brush a couple of those drops away from her face.  It was the gentlest of touches, wiping her face clean, as they both tried to wipe their minds of lingering ghosts. 

Natasha mirrored Steve as she simply shook her head no. 

It was nothing new for her.  The cell.  Erskine.  Seeing Steve at her funeral.  Waking and seeing Steve, two months ago almost.  Their baby.  Rumlow’s presence.  Ivan’s hate.  And Oksana’s eyes and voice. 

Just as Steve’s ghosts swirled around, so did Natasha’s.  No, there was nothing new there.  Just some twisted form of another night in that goddamn cell, making her feel alone and lost without everyone in her life that she’d loved.  Without Steve.

But that wasn’t her reality anymore.  It was a reminder, but not the lynchpin of her entire existence.  Her life was right here, surrounding her.  And everything else that mattered, rested within these walls too. 

In this safehouse. 

No, it was nothing new.  And Natasha didn’t want to talk about it right now, either.  She just wanted to _feel_.  She just wanted to find that soothing sensation in him that would seep into her heart.  And by the look in Steve’s eyes?  He _needed_ to feel that too. 

No words were needed right now as her breathing increased in the sliver of space between them.  They were on their sides, but what they both wanted, was clear as day before them.

Natasha pulled herself closer to Steve with a grip at his back.  Running her nose along his beard, she could feel her own breath rebounding off of his skin and warming them both. 

Their eyes held each other in the dark with a flicker and then two.  And then they were grabbing onto that relief laid out before them.  That comfort in the reality of each other’s stare and kiss.  Natasha’s lips found his as a sigh came out of his throat. 

There was something about this kiss that made it different from all the ones that came before.

And there were a lot that’d come before. 

There were all of the love and lust-filled kisses during their five years together.  Then, there were all of the longing and desperate ones during their stolen weekends.  And then, there were Steve’s endless brushes to her forehead and hands, and temple and hair, after he’d found her at the cabin.  As she was put into a coma.  For an entire week, he didn’t leave her side and his lips barely left her either.  And with each kiss, he begged silently, as he read the haunting words of her journal, that she would be able to wake up and be okay. 

And then, came the avoidance of a kiss as they both were too scared for a short while to dive into the ocean of grief awaiting them.  But they swam through and found each other.  Both in their hearts and memories.  And when Steve returned from the FBI building that night, almost three weeks ago…they’d finally worked through the avoidance.  Steve finally returned the kiss that Natasha had given him, before they had to separate for a few hours.    

Yes, many kisses had happened since that night, almost three weeks ago. 

But this kiss?  It was like a stream of water in the desert or a hot spring in the snow.  It was a preserver of life.  That’s how desperate the need to feel was in both of them.

They’d woken in each other’s arms after their memories had haunted them, almost down to the cellular level…with the dark reminder of what their life was like without each other. 

Those memories.  Those dreams, along with the frightening close calls and injuries to their friends yesterday, shook them to their very core.  And the only way they could possible battle that darkness right now was with touch. 

Touch. 

The physical sensation telling them both, that Steve was not at her funeral, and that she was very much alive.  And that Natasha was not in her cell, and that he was very much in her presence.  Yes, they were here and awake, needing each other with every trembling breath. 

Natasha’s fingers ran through Steve’s beard as his found the back of her neck.  The shudders in her breathing were only matched by the tremors in his own.  But they didn’t care as their mouths pressed against each other a little more.  Pulling against the muscles on his back, she tried to bring herself closer, but there was nowhere else to go.  There was no space left as they molded together. 

His fingers ran down her spine, holding her protectively before dipping below her sweatshirt to finally feel more skin under his hands.  Natasha’s tongue responded, running against his teeth in an almost involuntary way. 

It was like a well of history and passion had been tapped into finally.  And without either one of them hesitating, muscle memory took over.  Dormant desires and familiar needs fell in sync as their bodies melded with each movement.   

That desire wasn’t so dormant anymore.  Yes, a well had been tapped, springing new life as Natasha licked the warm cavern of his mouth.  As Steve felt the heat of his own breath mixing with her own. 

No words were spoken.  No words were needed right now. 

Natasha and Steve were so goddamn grateful to be in each other’s arms that their Pavlovian responses kicked in. 

Natasha couldn’t help it.  She was addicted to Steve and always would be.  And she was done trying to fight this.  There was no right time.  There was no right place.  And this was _not_ a distraction.  Something about yesterday and close calls.  It blended with their seven years of pain.  And the final touch was their treacherous dreams. 

No, this wasn’t a distraction.  It was the right concoction from all of their love and longing that _finally_ came calling.  Natasha brushed her knee between his thighs as Steve’s tongue ran along her own, tasting the mixture of both of their tears that had trickled between their lips. 

Yes, they’d had many kisses since Steve had first found her almost two months ago.  They’d had thousands upon thousands before she left.  But none of those were like this.  None were to this level. 

Steve had tried to keep _this_ at an arm’s reach.  Partially, because yes, he truly didn’t want their _intimacy_ to be a distraction.  But part of it…was also because he was scared to death still, of how hurt she was when he found her.  How haunted he still was, by her emaciated figure hanging from those rafters.  Steve had brought Natasha back from the brink of death, but her mortality mocked him with her weakened state the entire way. 

But somewhere along the way, their reluctance disappeared.  Somewhere…between their acceptance and forgiveness, and the realization yet again, that _everything_ can change within a blink of an eye.  Or a crash of an SUV that held five of their friends.  Yes, something had changed.

And now, they were right here, melting into each other.   With their muscles moving from memory, almost like no time had passed at all.  Except time had passed.  _Years_ had passed since they found themselves in a kiss even remotely like this.  Years and years _and years_ had passed, since losing themselves completely in each other’s touch and sound, without worrying that they would be separated shortly after. 

Natasha hummed against his mouth as her fingers dug in.  As her leg found friction, moving between his.  And finally, that rising tide of fear they’d woken up to, started to recede. 

Their painful dreams had left ice in their hearts and cool sweat on their backs.  But now, relief was felt as warmth grew and battled the cold, pushing it farther and farther away until only heat remained between them. 

The buzz turned hazy as their kiss turned desperate.  Lips pushing harder against each other, almost to a bruising extent.  Steve’s beard running along her chin and cheek.  Natasha’s mouth covering his nose and eyes and neck. 

And the haze thickened, turning into a fog as they both felt the fever from each other take over.  This kiss was more than all that’d come before, but it still wasn’t enough.  Steve pushed down against her knee as a low groan came out, feeling all of the pressure building between them.  His hand splayed along her lower back, pulling her harder against him.  He felt the silvery scars underneath that only his calloused fingers could caress in such a loving and careful way. 

Natasha sighed over and over as she sucked on his neck and dug her fingers in harder behind him.  Steve’s hands traveled a little higher, as he felt her bra.  Running along the edge of it, the softest of whines now came out of her. 

Legs were slotted together, and Natasha pushed into him more, grazing her knee higher and higher.  Until she finally could feel him, and what’d formed in the last few minutes.  Muscle memory and desire.  Love and longing.  Desperation trying to wipe away the pain from their past. 

This entanglement of touch wasn’t coordinated or planned, which only added to the feeling that they needed more.    

A heavy breath.  And a longing gaze as Steve leaned back for just a second. 

There she was.  Natasha.  Eyes darkened but still green, waiting for him to dive into the pools so she could soak him in.  This is the furthest they’d gone and they still had all of their clothes on.  But they both could tell, something had shifted.  In their stomachs and minds, and hearts and souls, something had strengthened.  Hesitation was gone. 

They wanted this.  They _needed_ this. 

She drew her bottom lip between her teeth, and he blew out a breath that warmed her skin.  Finally, a word came out of her with a whisper.

“Steve.”

And then his eyes flickered.  It wasn’t hesitation.  But it was the threat of logic bursting through their bubble only for a moment…as a thought flashed through his mind.  How could he be so stupid?  Steve thought it to himself as he tried to figure out how to tell her.  How to even broach this subject with Natasha because of what she’d lost.  What they’d lost. 

Natasha rolled her hips down, pushing into his thigh as her knee rubbed against him again.  Steve’s eyes were half-lidded but hers were wide open.  She saw him actually thinking something through, and had to smirk a little.  She knew Steve still, like the back of her hand.  And somehow, she just _knew,_ “Steve, it’s okay if you don’t have condoms.  Dr. Strange has had me on the pill for almost two months to balance out my hormones while I regained my strength.”

Steve shut his eyes all the way and smiled before a soft laugh escaped him, “I’m sorry, Nat.  We haven’t even talked about it.”  Natasha pressed her fingers against his back as she shrugged her shoulder, “We haven’t had a need to…Now, I think we do.”

The comfort.  The ease.  The knowing each other inside and out was all there, right along with the intimacy.  Another sigh came out as she felt how turned on he was between his legs.  As she _knew_ , how aroused she was between her own, “Steve, I think we do… _now_.”

Another shift in this drive as it went into high gear.  A louder groan came out of him, and then Natasha was on her back, pulling him into a suffocating kiss.  Pulling him down against her.  He surrounded every part of her, and she’d never felt safer. 

But Steve was worried and braced himself with his arms, “Nat, I don’t wanna hurt...”

“Steve, please.  _Please_ , don’t tell me you don’t want to hurt me.  This is the _least_ I’ve hurt since waking up.  Please.”

Steve’s fingers brushed along her face and neck, and over his FBI sweatshirt she wore, taking all of her fully clothed, but ever tempting body beneath him in, “Okay.  I won’t.  But promise me you’ll tell me if anything hurts, okay?  You promise?”

A nervous nod, and then she was feeling all of what she’s missed and longed for.  It was now within an arm’s reach as her fingers trailed along his jeans that he’d fallen asleep in, mere hours ago.  No, this wasn’t planned nor thought out. 

But that dormancy had been prodded at, and now they were both succumbing to an insurmountable urge inside.  Their love had been burning and growing constantly since he’d found her, but right now?  It came roaring to life like a raging fire.  It had been two long years for both of them.  But it had been _seven_ long years, since anything had even broached how they felt when they were truly together. 

And _this_ was somehow even different from that. 

Natasha felt how much he wanted her.  And his trembling fingers, now brushed along her pants, feeling how warm she was for him.  Eyes fluttered before their lips found each other again as Steve finally pressed into that warmth at the center of her jeans.  It was the closest by far, that either one of them had been to this feeling, in seven long years.  But it might as well have been a decade, because that’s how long it felt…maybe even more. 

And they couldn’t get enough of it. 

Fingers carding through hair.  His beard leaving red marks on her cheek and chin.   Nails digging into his back as he chased her mouth with his own before finding it and claiming it as his, again and again and again.  Just as it always was.  And just as it always would be. 

Moaning and groaning mixed as sweat began to form again, only this time from heat. 

But…

It wasn’t the right time.  And it wasn’t because of hesitation or second thoughts.  It wasn’t because this was a whim or that it had to be perfect.  It’s just…their time was simply up, as the bubble abruptly burst with a soft knock at their door. 

Another groan, but not for the same reasons, as a displeased sound came out of Natasha, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”  Steve hovered over her for a second longer as the tapping sound increased and became a little louder.  And then it was followed by a soft voice, “Steve?  Natasha?  It’s Wanda…”

Damn.

The instant rush was gone as reality washed over them, and they became a little cooler.  What waited for them outside their door was calling, and made it clear as day that the raging fire was tempered.  They felt like they’d been doused with water.    

They could almost laugh, if their frustration wasn’t so overwhelming.  Steve blew out a couple breaths, calming himself in more ways than one.  He leaned down to kiss her forehead as another sigh came out of her.  It left them both feeling like an itch was left unscratched.  But the expression in both of their eyes said the same thing as they heard Wanda’s voice.  _This_ would have to wait a little longer. 

Natasha patted her forehead and cheeks, trying to cool herself as she took in a couple breaths and stood up with Steve.  It was 5:30 am.  They’d crawled in (literally) to bed fully-clothed, only a little over two hours ago. 

Steve cracked open the door and Wanda looked _entirely_ apologetic to have disrupted their sleep because everyone needed it.  But then…she caught Steve’s blush on his cheeks, and Natasha peered out from behind him.  The red marks all over her face were unmistakable.  So was the blush creeping up on Wanda’s own neck as her eyes went a little wide, being almost run over with embarrassment, “I uh…Fury wanted.  We’re downstairs…Oh my gosh.  I’m so sorry, Steve.  Natasha, god…”

Well, that was just enough to draw them out of their haze as Natasha smiled and reached around Steve, opening the door a little more.  Steve had been gripping it out of frustration and was kind of frozen in place with a scowl as Natasha spoke to her friend, “It’s okay, Wanda.  What’s going on?”

Wanda shook her head one more time, “Right.  Sorry, Fury…Well, he’s downstairs with a few of us that are up.  He got a message from Ross a few minutes ago.  Ross said the news outlets are all running with the story about you and Clint, Natasha.  And all of us will be named as working with you under Fury’s orders.  It will probably come out as breaking anytime, in the next hour or so.  He wants you two downstairs so we can hit the ground running.  I’m sorry you couldn’t… _sleep_ a little longer.”

Steve’s other hand had found Natasha’s back over the last 20 seconds, and he was pressing into it a little harder right now, letting his annoyance show.  Natasha blew out a breath and smiled, “Thanks Wanda.  We’ll be down in just a minute, okay?” Wanda gave another apologetic look before turning to walk away. 

The door closed and Steve groaned in frustration.    

One thing had been accomplished.  The worries from their haunted memories had been wiped away.  Natasha let out a laugh in disbelief as her head fell against the door.  Steve’s expression was somewhere between looking like he wanted to beat down the damn door, and wanting to say screw everything and just go back to bed.  Instead, he drew his arms around her waist, surrounding her again, as his lips brushed over the nape of her neck. 

“Steve…”

Natasha grinned as she battled the temptation from before.  Steve whispered, “Nat…,” as his lips traveled to her cheek.  What they would give for just five more minutes of this.

But duty called.  And Natasha couldn’t believe she was the _actual_ one doing this right now, but she held onto his fingers around her waist and turned around in his arms, “Well, the good news is that I guess I finally got you to be _okay_ …with moving some _things_ along between us, Steve.”

He couldn’t help it as a laugh was pulled out of him.  The thrilling feeling had settled.  And Steve knew it too.  They couldn’t continue with what’d almost happened, “I just…it would have been nice to have a little while longer in bed with you, Nat.  But it just keeps coming, doesn’t it?”  She found her way into his arms as he rested his chin on her head, “Yeah Steve, it does.  And it’s not going to stop until we put an end to it.” 

Steve’s hold tightened around her as they felt the weight of the day, fully intrude on the intimacy they were immersed in only minutes ago.  But the intrusion wasn’t going to stop him from doing one last thing.  He tilted her chin up in the dark and found her lips once again as she ran her fingers around his neck. 

Natasha pulled away and smirked at him, “Raincheck?” 

Steve laughed again, feeling just a little calmer.  She always made him feel better, no matter what.  And god, was he ever thankful to have the feeling of his nightmare over, knowing she was very much real and _alive_ in his arms.  He brushed a final kiss against her forehead, “Yeah, Nat.  A raincheck sounds perfect.”

* * *

Steve’s hand was on Natasha’s shoulder the entire time as she led them down the stairs.  It was relatively quiet because their room was the first one that Wanda had knocked on.  They stood at the base of the steps and made it to the edge of the kitchen as they looked around and took the site of the main floor in.   

Dr. Jane Foster was awake and was checking on each of the five patients across the floor in the medical area.  Loki was sitting at the long table with Peter, and looked like he was teaching him a card trick.  Natasha shook her head and raised an eyebrow at that one. 

Bucky looked like he was even more worn out than Natasha and Steve as he sat at the counter by himself, smacking his cheeks a couple of times before inhaling his coffee.  Wanda walked around them to sit by her husband.  She looked over at Natasha and blushed again as she gave her a knowing smirk from before. 

Natasha shook her head but grinned and then took in the most surprising image yet.  Sarah Rogers had somehow tapped into that endless vat of energy, that only she could in times like these.  She was in the process of making a second, large stainless steel container of coffee.  And she was doing that in between pouring pancake batter on a giant griddle next to her. 

As amazing as all of that was, _that_ wasn’t the surprising part.  Sarah Rogers amazed Natasha, but her wonderment in the kitchen had stopped being a surprise long ago. 

No, the surprising part…was Fury.

Nick Fury was standing right by Sarah’s side, stacking already formed pancakes in warming trays in the oven.  He was balancing that while working the stove as he turned over frying pans full of bacon and sausage links. 

The smell in the kitchen was almost mouth-watering.  But honestly, Steve and Natasha pushed past the hunger that’d woken up, right along with Wanda’s knock on the door, and they looked at each other, “Steve, I know I was gone for years, but tell me _this_ is not something that’s normal.  Fury doesn’t usually cook you guys breakfast, does he?”

Steve looked just as baffled as her, “Yeah, Nat…this is as new to me as it is to you.  I’ve _never_ seen that man cook breakfast in my life.”  Bucky looked over at them and rubbed his eyes, with Wanda curling into him as he yawned, “I’m confused as hell too, Steve.  But let’s not question it.  Fury can fry my bacon anytime he wants.”

Fury gave Bucky a little sideways glare, “You should take a picture, Barnes.  Because it’ll probably be the only time I am _ever_ serving you food.”  There was an inappropriate joke that Loki didn’t crack, about Fury being around a lot in the mornings from now on.  But no one dared say anything.  Partially because of Fury’s glare.  But in larger part, because Wanda and Bucky, and Steve and Natasha, were kind of speechless from the domesticity in front of their eyes. 

Loki did speak next though, “Now Peter, that’s the greatest magic trick of them all.  When you’re able to silence your parents, and Steve and Natasha.  Fury has been able to do _that_ for over 12 years.”  Peter couldn’t care at all, about whatever was going on behind him or at what Loki actually meant.  Instead, he piled all the cards up and shoved them towards Loki, “Again!”

Sarah looked over at Steve and Natasha and gave them a warm smile, that already had them feeling better about their morning, “Oh good you’re up.  Here’s a couple of cups of coffee.  I’m sure you’ll need them.  And Nick, you reminded me of something.”

Sarah Rogers was clearly running the show right now. 

Natasha grabbed Steve’s hand and pulled him along as they sat next to Wanda and Bucky around the corner of the counter now, “What’s with Loki the magician over there?”  Loki heard Natasha and grinned as he looked up but dove back into dealing Peter some cards. 

Wanda shook her head, “Loki is bound and determined to have Peter see him as something other than the ‘compound cat’ like he drew in his picture for you the other day.  He doesn’t like the idea of being the group pet.”  They laughed as Steve and Bucky started talking on their own.  Natasha looked back at Wanda, “Why doesn’t Loki just buy Peter a pet?  That’ll bump him up a couple of notches.” 

“God, Natasha, don’t give him or Tony any ideas…we’ll end up with a Pony or something worse like a giant python that’ll eat us…All because Loki didn’t want to be the task-force tabby.”  Natasha smiled through her sips of coffee as she caught Loki’s expression.  The idea had clearly been planted in his brain. 

Steve leaned over to kiss Natasha’s forehead.  No one else was downstairs yet, and if he couldn’t enjoy the privacy of what almost happened 15 minutes ago, he was sure going to soak in the site of her in the morning.  Puffy eyes and faded red marks on her face still from him.  She was swallowed up by his sweatshirt over her leggings and still looked a little too sleepy as she drank her coffee.  She was absolutely perfect.

Loki caught Natasha’s eyes and gave her a devious grin as he spoke a little louder so everyone could hear, “Hey Peter, here’s another magic trick.  Do you want to know how to _always_ keep a smile on your Daddy and Uncle Steve’s faces?  You keep the women at their sides happy, and they’ll be grinning like idiots for days.”

Natasha and Wanda smiled, but Peter was unimpressed, “That’s not magic, Loki.  Daddy makes Mommy smile a lot.”  The four of them were shaking their heads as a flash of light made them turn.  Sarah was literally doing what Fury had said a moment ago.  She was taking photos on her phone. 

Steve shook his head as Bucky rolled his eyes and groaned, “Mom, com on…”

But again…Sarah Rogers was running this little morning breakfast show, “Oh James, you hush your mouth.  You all wouldn’t have any history of this entire place, if I left it to you.  But you’re saving the world, and each other while you’re at it…And I for one, think it’s important to remember my sons and their families and friends during this time, okay?”

Fury was hiding his smile as he put all of the bacon and sausage in another tray in the oven, before loading the frying pans up with more.  And Wanda, Loki, and Natasha were all hiding their own grins…because they’d seen it all a million times before.  Sarah Rogers, silencing her sons with all the love and care in the world.  The woman could ask them to walk around in diapers in front of everyone, and she’d find away to make them do it, without them even saying a peep. 

Loki was laughing now, “Okay, Peter.  One last trick.  Do you know how to make two, long-term FBI agents, cower and instantly cave?  The answer is Sarah Rogers.” 

Peter stared at him, even more unimpressed than before and just shook his head, silently telling him, _‘Duh, Loki.  I know Grandma’s the boss.’_

Bucky didn’t say anything else as Sarah snapped picture after picture on her phone.  First of Loki and Peter.  Then of Nick…frying his bacon.  Then of Wanda kissing Bucky on the forehead as he drew his arm around her waist.  And finally of Natasha leaning her head on Steve’s shoulder with him turning his nose and lips into her hair. 

It was all so… _normal_. 

If the events of yesterday hadn’t happened.  If they didn’t have the fate of god knew how many innocent lives on their hands.  If they didn’t have the ticking time bomb of Poseidon’s attack, threatening them with all the worry of hideouts and locations and now pending news reports coming. 

If.

If all of _that_ wasn’t going on in the backgrounds of their heads, _this_ would almost seem like a normal, happy breakfast.  On any given morning.  On a Sunday at Sarah’s with a couple of new additions with Loki and Nick.  Happy additions. 

But…that ‘if,’ that was so large in meaning, even though it only consisted of two letters, would have to wait.  Just as Steve and Natasha’s beautiful, ‘if,’ from only 25 minutes ago, had to wait too.  Because everyone else was coming downstairs now, and the quiet and intimate moment of just their small little family, was over. 

Sam and Tony were the first to join the breakfast crowd as they walked over from the medical suite where they’d slept.  Tony was stretching, “Jane is in there with Pep.  And Laura and Betty are going to join them while we all…listen for this news report that I’m sure will be _just thrilling_.”

Natasha smiled at both of them, “How’s Maria and everyone else doing, Sam?”  Sam let out a breath as Tony handed him a coffee, “Everyone actually slept for a few hours except Thor and Maria.  Thor woke up once, but Maria?  Well, she was off and on.  She’s still in a lot of pain.  But she’s asleep right now.”

Yes, the small little bubble they were all in had burst, with the reality of all that’d happened, crowding around them now.  Images of animals lined up at a feeding trough came to mind as the Mercs and Daisy and Bobbi and Lance…and as Bruce and Clint and everyone else surrounded the kitchen.  Sarah handed out coffee and juice and Nick truly did serve pancakes, bacon and sausage to a compound full of people. 

The kitchen was loud and noisy now, with the counter space and dinner table packed. 

And Loki, Natasha, and Wanda crept away to stand outside the conference room as Peter ran off to color on the living room floor.  Steve had brought them some plates of food and they preferred to just stand and eat, versus try and squeeze in around everyone else.  They would soak in a little reprieve for just a little longer if they could. 

“I’m going to be thought of as more than a damn cat to your son, Wanda.  Just you wait and see.”  Wanda smiled as she nibbled on some bacon, “Don’t you know, Loki?  The pet is always the most beloved.  You should take it as a compliment…Peter did seem to really enjoy those cards though.  You may have some competition as favorite aunt or uncle here now, Natasha.”

Natasha drank her coffee down as she soaked in everything around her.  Peter coloring.  Steve talking with Bucky and Sam and Tony off to the other side of the kitchen.  Everyone trying to enjoy a good meal to start another long day on this even longer journey, as five of their friends lie asleep in a medical suite, each with _even longer_ journeys ahead of them. 

But…they were all here, together.  And that was something to be thankful for.  It was that same feeling that Natasha and Steve had, desperately finding comfort in each other’s touches and kisses, only 30 minutes ago. 

“Well, if I’m in the running as Peter’s favorite person here, and I don’t at least get a groan out of you, Romanoff…something _good_ must be on your mind.”

Wanda held back a laugh but Loki caught it, “Spit it out, Wanda.  What do you know?”  Natasha’s eyes perked up as Wanda shrugged her shoulders, “I think something _good_ was definitely on Natasha’s mind.”

That did pull a groan out of Natasha as she rolled her eyes before finishing her pancake and drinking more coffee, “You guys apparently need to find some better material to satiate your desperate need for gossip.  There’s _nothing_ to tell.”

Loki grinned at Wanda before poking the red-headed bear beside him, “Nothing to tell, huh?  Is that what the hickey on your neck would say, if it could talk?”

Natasha’s eyes widened as she started feeling around with her hand before Loki started laughing hysterically, “Made ya look, Natasha.  But you gave away your entire hand with that tell.  You and Rogers must have been doing _something_ if you thought there could’ve been a mark.”

Wanda couldn’t help it.  She tried to hold it back but she let out a snicker as Natasha shook her head, “God, when you two get going, you are seriously less mature than your four-year old son, Wanda.”  Wanda just shrugged her shoulder, “I’m an old married woman.  Your love life is much more interesting than mine.”

Plates were piled on the floor as Natasha’s chain with Steve’s tag and Loki’s ring fell out of her sweatshirt.  She grabbed onto it as she stood back up, “Let’s change the subject, shall we?  Loki, thanks again for your mother’s ring.  Even though you’re an ass sometimes, I really do love it.” 

A little of that heavy feeling quickly returned as Loki smiled at his friends, thinking of all the waiting worries outside of these walls.  Wanda ran her fingers across his ring on her own thumb too, “I know we’re all trying to feel good before everything hits the fan this morning…Before whatever happens with this bullshit news report that’s about to break.  None of _that_ matters.  But, you two and Steve?  You matter.  And you need to be careful today with Fisk.”

There it was.  Reality.

Natasha looked up at Loki as they both took a breath and Wanda continued, “I’m serious.  I’m not being overly worried or protective.  I just…we have five of our friends who seriously could’ve been killed yesterday.  _Any_ of you could’ve been killed.  Natasha, I can’t even think of how much you’ve been through without wanting to throw up, and here you are…going out there again today to see Fisk.  You know he’s not going to give information to you for free.”

Loki scoffed, “Wanda, Dear.  I love you.  And I know you can put me in my place, more so than most people.  But let’s not forget, I more than just dabbled in the criminal underworld for seven years.  I _know_ men like Fisk.  And I know he’s going to want something big.  But honestly?  I think we all need to worry about the hurricane that Poseidon is forming, before we fret over any rainclouds Fisk might cause.  Whatever he wants is going to be for him and his own little world.  So, if we have to dance with the devil in order to get out of hell?  Then, we’ll do it.”

Wanda sighed, “Just don’t…don’t go trying to be a hero or anything today.  Either of you.  Go and meet with him.  Give him whatever the heck he’s asking and get what you need.  And get back here safely.  We don’t need anyone else in that medical suite over there.”

Thoughts were weighing on Natasha.  Yes, from her encounter with Steve this morning.  And yes, from the fact that their friends were in hospital gurneys, only 30 feet away.  But more so, from the entirety of this journey.  It felt like they were _so close_ to the end…to bringing Poseidon down.  But it still felt so far away, “You know, Wanda.  I think I really suck at being a hero.  I sucked at being a spy too.  I was downright awful at who I was supposed to be in life…”

Loki looked over at Wanda, hearing the weight of guilt and sadness at the edge of Natasha’s voice.  They’d talked so many times as they reconnected as friends over the last two months.  And it was a blessing.  A shining star in an entire sky of darkness.  It was one of the good things they could all hold onto in times like these.  They’d found each other again.  Yes, all of them.  But the three of them, specifically right now. 

And they were so thankful to have one another again - rings, bad jokes, gossip, and all.  Everything.  And it was clear, that heavy feeling of reality, cut so much deeper in Natasha.  And Loki and Wanda both just wanted to help her.  But sometimes, all they could do was listen and love…and every now and then, offer a little wisdom. 

Wanda nudged Natasha’s side as Loki but his arm around her, “You know, Natasha.  I know I was talking about my mother yesterday.  With her rings and everything.  I remember something she told me when I first thought about going to Quantico.  I was doubting myself and said something to the effect of, that I had sucked at every other path I’d tried.  Essentially, I felt like I failed at who I was supposed to be in life too, and I hadn’t even really begun living yet…How utterly foolish of me.”

They looked up at their friend as he smiled, “But…someone who wasn’t foolish…she may have been troubled beyond compare and stuck in a loveless and abusive marriage…but god, she was no fool.  My mother told me, ‘ _Everyone fails at who they’re supposed to be.  A measure of a person, of a hero, is how well they succeed at being who they are_.’”

Loki was a little lost in his own words as Natasha put her arm around his waist and Wanda grabbed his hand, joining them together in a circle, “Loki, that’s beautiful.”

Loki swallowed down the threat of tears, “Well, _she_ was beautiful.  And _so_ are the two of you.  And I think…she was right.  Look at all of us.  We’ve all failed at who we were supposed to be early on in life.  But here we are now, standing and trying to do something right.  For each other…for ourselves.  For _everyone_ we’ve lost in our lives.”

Natasha wiped her eyes on Loki’s shirt as Wanda squeezed his hand and he went on, “I think, when all the bullshit was wiped away two months ago, and the truth became crystal clear, we all made decisions to stand and fight…together.  To be here for each other.  So, Natasha?  It’s not about being a hero.  It’s about being who we are.”  They enjoyed their moment a little longer as they held each other. 

Small moments like this, were seen around the kitchen and dining area. 

And Sarah, ever true to her words to Steve and Bucky, was capturing them all on her phone.  Pictures of the three of them, laughing and then just being with each other.  A picture of her sons with their close friends.  Of Laura and Clint.  Of everyone trying to enjoy a little of this life that they were fighting for, before the fighting actually began again.

It was all something that was beautiful.  It was something that couldn’t be bought or sold.  It was life, being lived after so much heartache.  It was being thankful for that life, after coming so close to loss, yet again yesterday. 

It was all of them together.  And it was something they would need to cherish in their memories. 

Because the moment was over almost as quickly as it started.  Fury’s radio sounded loudly on the kitchen counter as he placed it in the center with everyone drawing near.  Peter was none the wiser and was watching a cartoon on TV while still coloring.  But everyone else waited with abated breath to hear the breaking news they’d been waiting for.

* * *

**News Report:**

CE:  I’m Christine Everhart with Marvel’s 616 Live Broadcast.  This just in.  We have breaking news at this early hour.

Moments ago, we received chilling information with regards to the FBI attack in New York City, almost three weeks ago now.  What does a criminal on the FBI’s most wanted list who was supposed to be taken into custody almost two months ago, two homegrown terrorists, and an FBI field team all have in common? 

I regret to inform you that their commonality lies in their traitorous actions.  That they are all are working together, to attack this nation.  To attack other innocent civilians in other peaceful nations.  My loyal audience may want to sit down for this one, because the details we’re about to unfold, sound like they are straight out of a spy novel.  Unfortunately, they are not. 

Marvel’s 616 news outlet was sent information late yesterday evening.  We’ve corroborated the information and verified details since then.  And now, we’re able to share this chilling story with you all.

Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton.  Siblings by birth.  Shipped over to America at a young age, they found solace in working _against_ this country, all while under the guise of working _for_ it. 

Yes, that’s right.  They are home-grown terrorists.  Romanoff even posed as a member of the military and as an FBI Agent for five years, before her true colors were exposed.  Barton, who was thought to be dead over the last couple of years, was working with her behind the scenes the entire time. 

That’s not even close to the beginning.  Not only did these siblings plot against this country, but they also convinced good men and women who worked with them at the FBI, to help do their bidding over the last month. 

How did the sibling spies convince Assistant Director Nicholas J. Fury and his leading field team of operatives, including Army Captain, Steven Grant Rogers, to help them?  How did the siblings convince both men to work against the country that they’d both fought to protect in the military?  _Those_ are about the only questions we don’t have the answers to.

But what we do know, is that Assistant Director Fury reassembled his entire field team from years ago.  A team, that was initially formed after graduating together from Quantico, 12 years ago. 

Evidence leads us to deduce, that this reforming of a team, was for the purpose of the attack at the FBI building, and at the U.S. Embassy and Consulate in Sydney and Stockholm, overseas. 

We have received copies of photographs.  Photos of Romanoff and Barton overseas as youth.  Photos of them working against this country in Kazakhstan.  Photos of them setting free, six criminals from Rikers Island seven years ago.  And proof that Romanoff herself, stole intel from Quantico.  Intel that gave her the blueprints to the FBI building in New York City. 

Rumors circulated after that dreadful night that the FBI Building was attacked, almost three weeks ago. 

Rumors about Fury and his team being killed.  Rumors that the government didn’t even know who was responsible.  To think, all the while, it was Fury, Captain Rogers and his brother, James Barnes.  It was them and their _entire_ team, working with Loki, a man high up on the FBI’s most wanted list.  And while they were coming back together as a team?  They were working with the sibling spies, born to be terrorists.  The siblings who worked their entire lives to harm this country and as many innocent people as they could. 

As chilling as all of that information is to take in, it doesn’t end there.  Our own Secretary of Defense and Patriot, Alexander Pierce, called the police late last night and reported a break-in.  He bravely tried to play it down as nothing to worry about, when he so graciously took our call.  But you could hear how unsettled he was as he spoke.  

Listen, as our own Karen Page was with him at the scene of the break-in, his estate, only hours ago.

KP:  Secretary Pierce, first on behalf of Marvel 616 and all of our listeners, let me say that we’re so thankful that you’re okay.  Now, is it your belief, that your break-in at your home, was somehow tied to the awful revelations about the terrorist siblings, revealed to be working with our very own FBI to attack America?

AP:  Oh, thank you Miss Page for your kind words.  You know, I’ll let the fine gentlemen at the local police station determine who broke in.  But thank you again.  It’s good folks like you in this country that give me hope in dark times like these. 

You know, you might be able to tell by my gray hair, that I’ve been around in this world for a while.  I was a soldier in Vietnam, long before I became a servant of this country through politics.  And it’s always _the people_ that keep your faith alive. 

I was as disturbed to learn about this news, just like I’m sure your listeners were.  I first heard the news only moments ago.  But these terrorists will not prevail.  These siblings…Romanoff and Barton…they may have succeeded at infiltrating my former friend, Nick Fury’s team.  They may have each agent on that team working with them to carry out their home-grown terrorist efforts in order to hurt this country.  They may even have further plans in the works, beyond their attack at the FBI and against our peaceful allies in Sweden and Australia.  But what they don’t have, is the backing of this country.  This country has always stood up to the likes of Barton and Romanoff…and traitors like Nick Fury and his entire team.  And this country will stand up this time too.

KP:  Thank you, Mr. Secretary, for taking the time.  I know you need to get to D.C.  But please stay safe. 

KP:  Christine, Secretary Pierce is a busy man and that was all the time he had, but we’re so thankful he was able to fit us in.  Back to you.

CE:  Thank you, Karen.  And thank you for that brave statement by Secretary Pierce.  This story is just starting to unfold.  But we wanted to share with you this unsettling news, as early as we could this morning.  Because you as citizens have a right to know.    

We will keep you informed as details keep pouring in.  This is Christine Everhart with Marvel’s 616 Live Broadcast, signing off for now.  We are your eyes and ears when you can’t be.  And we will keep you abreast throughout the day and evening as this story continues to unfold.

* * *

The broadcast promised to be back on in 15 minutes and then it proceeded to list off everyone’s name on the task-force.  The original 11 Quantico friends plus Fury and Clint’s. 

Everyone else in the compound was not named because they simply weren’t known by Pierce and Poseidon, and by the news outlets.  That small advantage could be discussed later though.  Right now, you could hear a pin drop as Fury turned off the radio and muttered under his breath, “See, it’s stuff like this that gives me trust issues.”  No one spoke after, because they were all filled with a mix of emotions.

Shock and disbelief.  Anger and vitriol.  Fear and worry. 

They all blended together, forming this heavy cloud hanging over the kitchen and dining area right now.  There was dead silence, except for beeping heart monitors in the background.  Everhart had wrongfully used the term ‘chilling,’ in her broadcast.  Chilling was right.  It was so wrong, they all felt like they could be sick.

Wanda almost jumped out of her skin from being startled, because Peter had snuck up on her after he turned the television off and tapped her on the leg, “Mommy, what’s wrong?”

Pepper came out of the medical area right away and smiled down at him, “Hey Peter, your Mommy and everyone are just fine.  What do you say you and I help them out by giving them a little quiet time right now?  Let’s go upstairs and we can read a book and play a game.  How does that sound?”

Peter looked up at Wanda and Natasha and Loki, and then over at Steve and his Dad.  They all somehow found a way to smile at him convincingly as he nodded his head and ran off upstairs.  Wanda mouthed, ‘Thank you,’ to Pepper as she left too.  It was just the task-force team now, as Sarah sighed and returned to the medical suite. 

The beautiful breakfast moment was over far too quickly.

Clint and Natasha were staring at each other like they were having an entire conversation on their own, just by their looks.  And it was unnerving to Steve, and Wanda and Loki…and everyone else. 

Tony finally broke the fragile ice they were all emotionally standing on, “Jesus, we knew it was going to be bad.  But that was gross.  I feel like I could actually throw-up.”  He wasn’t kidding around in the slightest. 

Natasha kept looking at Clint.  Steve kept staring at Natasha.  And everyone else shifted their own eyes between the three of them before Fury finally spoke, “Barton.  Romanoff.  Whatever twisted conversation the two of you are having in your heads, you need to stop.  We’re all in this together.  And most of us in this room, were named by Everhart.  By looking at my phone for only 10 seconds, I can tell you every other news outlet is running with the same shit.  If not worse.” 

Clint spoke a little louder than the moment called for, but no one could blame him, “We have all of this fucking proof from the drives Tasha and Steve got from Pierce’s mansion.  Why can’t we just give that to the press.  Why can’t we just prove we’re innocent?”

It was a valid question.  But it was one that many of them started to figure out the answer to as Natasha said under her breath, “We can’t give the press the information, Clint.”

“Why, Tasha?  All people are going to be talking about is the 11 of all of you, Fury, and me.  They’re not going to be talking about what is actually going on.  And they’re not going to be looking for any one of the actual fucking terrorists.”

Natasha looked over at Steve before he took a breath and took control of the conversation, “Clint, we can’t release the proof to the press because that’s what Poseidon wants.  This is Pierce’s attempt to snuff Fury and all of us out.  He doesn’t realize anything was stolen with Poseidon’s intel from his place last night.  But he’s not sure with Fury being in the wind with all of us.  If we come out, defending ourselves?  All that will accomplish, will be Poseidon’s forces going further into hiding.  They’ll recede for a week or a month, or who knows how long.  But they’ll attack on a day that we _don’t_ know about.”

Steve never took his eyes off of Natasha as she added, “It’s their own fishing expedition, Clint.  You know that.  And we don’t know where they’re hiding yet.  Coming out and defending ourselves would be short-sighted at best.”

Clint knew it was the truth, but it was so fucking gross, having to listen to the garbage they all just did, and knowing it was what every news outlet would be talking about…for at least two weeks straight.

Fury spoke again, “Look.  It pisses me off to no end, hearing Pierce talk like that, knowing we served together.  Knowing that everything he’s saying about us, is what the actual truth is about him.  And about Ivan, Oksana, Rumlow…and every other Poseidon operative alive.  But Romanoff and Rogers are right.  We gotta suck it up and swallow these lies and dig in.  We have a mission today.  And if Rogers, Romanoff, and Loki can get the needed information from Fisk, then we can actually form a plan to end Poseidon once and for all.  And _then_ , we can set every news outlet right on this one, Barton…Even the gossip rags.  The truth always comes out, eventually.”

Just as Clint was about to mutter another profanity, Loki interrupted, “Call me crazy, but this _may_ actually work to our advantage…with Poseidon at least.”

Natasha and Wanda…and everyone else turned toward him as he continued, “Look.  It’s not great, sure.  But, as you guys mentioned, Poseidon is showing their hand in a way.  They’re fishing, and trying to pull us out in the open to defend ourselves.  They want to tie us up for a week, until they attack.  They’ve put decades of resources into this calculated plan.  So that Mother Russia can rise again, or whatever they call it.  But, they’re not going to divert from that plan, unless it is the _absolute_ last resort.  This is Poseidon…scattering red meat, to see if we’ll sink our teeth in.”

Bucky sighed, “How is that advantageous, Loki?”

“They don’t _know_ that Clint is alive.  That was speculation.  If they did know, they would’ve mentioned the mercenaries, because he’s been attached at their hip for the last few years, essentially.  They don’t _know_ that I was Clint’s source, and worked with Maria over the last year either.  Otherwise, they would’ve spelled that out.  They throwing out the images of Clint and Natasha, and hoping anything else they say, sticks.  It’s _advantageous_ for us to know, how little Poseidon actually knows.  They’re grasping…because they’re desperate to carry out this plan of attack in a week.  Clint.  Natasha…They lost _a lot_ of money from your successful takedown in Kazakhstan, and I’m betting they don’t have the funds to be able to plan another one easily.  Not on this grand of a scale.”

Loki was making sense, but there was still confusion around the room.

He rolled his eyes, “Natasha come on.  You all have to start thinking like a criminal.  As long as they’re throwing out red meat like this, it means the plan of attack is still on, and we _still_ have a fighting chance to take them down.  I guarantee they don’t know about Fisk’s contact with us.  Fisk is an opportunist, and cares about local control, not global power.  Whatever he has, _is big_ …and whatever he wants, is going to be small in the grand scheme of things.  That may not be an easy pill to swallow, but we all should right now.  Because we’re going to have deal with the rat in order to catch the snake.” 

Loki apparently had an endless amount of metaphors on having to deal with Fisk in order to take down the bigger fish.  But Fury saw where he was going with this and took a breath, “Loki, run over what we know one more time about Poseidon’s plan of attack.  About what we got from Rogers and Romanoff’s drives.”

Loki stepped in the middle of everyone and listed everything they found on those drives:

  * Poseidon’s history in America (without Pierce’s name because he protected himself)
  * Ivan and Oksana’s information and the camp they raised operatives in. Or as Loki put it, ‘Their own little Manchurian Candidates”
  * Victims they’ve killed
  * Money they’ve stolen
  * List of operatives in the states
  * Information that included what Clint and Natasha have done as well
  * The plan of attack – set for a week from today. With the targeted locations, including Quantico, the CIA training facility in Langley, VA, and each of the main military academies. 
  * It also included the revelation that Poseidon planned to attack a single location in Europe, Asia, Africa, South America, and Australia. There was only one target on each continent outside of the United States, but the specific locations were still unknown to the team.  It was clear most of Poseidon’s resources were focused on America, viewing it as it’s greatest threat, but they also wanted to make a statement worldwide, striking fear across the globe. 



Loki took a breath as everyone soaked in all of the information one more time, before he added, “That’s not all.  I did a little more digging on the drives before everyone else got up.  I guess I couldn’t sleep.  But anyway…I found some data on land surveillance across the United States on Natasha’s drive.  I think Poseidon’s resources are spread out over several locations across the U.S.  And from the data I looked at, those locations are more than likely open or deserted areas…like a large national park or reserve, or an abandoned military complex.”

Tony jumped on Loki’s words, “That actually makes a lot of sense, Loki.  But there’s a lot of parks, reserves, and old bases in the country.”  Loki grinned at Stark, “But there’s also truck routes with repeated patterns too, Tony.  From your father’s company…I may have hacked into their shipping manifests and compared it to a list of 100 or so open industrial parks, reserves and national parks, and abandoned military bases in the country.  I found three locations with frequent truck routes from Stark industries.”

Loki smirked at everyone’s disbelief on their faces as he added, “You can always track through money and mail, if you just know what you’re looking for.”

“Son of a bitch,” Tony said under his breath, before he looked back up and grinned, “You are really clever when you want to be, Loki.”  Steve looked over at Natasha, a little in shock and asked, “What are the locations, Loki?”  Loki listed them off:

  * Nekoma Missile Base – Nekoma, North Dakota
  * Titan East Missile Complex – East Washington State
  * Yellowstone National Park – Wyoming



Wanda was more than a little shocked, “You really think Poseidon would hide in a place like Yellowstone National Park?” 

Clint and Natasha were staring at each other again for a few seconds before Natasha said, “I don’t know.  But I trust Loki.  And the tracking patterns and data he found is more than curious.  Maybe they wouldn’t have weapons in _actual_ Yellowstone.  But Jesus, they might have a warehouse outside of it…miles out in the middle of nowhere.  Each of these locations are perfect for where they could be hiding.”

Clint followed her words, “Yeah, they’re probably even working as park rangers or some shit.  Jesus Christ…How do we find out if there’s more locations and where their main hideout is right now?  We need to attack in a few days because they’ll probably start rolling out by then.  They’ll need to in order to get to their targets in a week.  We don’t have time to go on a wild goose chase if none of these three locations are where they’re hiding.”

Loki looked at Natasha and Steve and then Fury as he said, “Well, Rogers…”

Steve sighed, “That’s where Fisk comes in.  If Fisk can tell us where they are, and he names these locations along with it…or if it’s one of these locations.  We know he’s telling the truth.  Maybe he knows the overseas locations too…At what cost though?”

Fury spoke over Steve, “That’s for _me_ to decide, Rogers.  And for _me_ to carry the weight of.  You, Loki, and Natasha…go get ready to take off.  You need to be at Rikers soon, because all of those damn news reports are going to have your pictures everywhere.  So, wear disguises and plan to roll out in an hour.”

It wasn’t even 6:15 am, yet.  And that little reprieve that Natasha and Steve had found a little over an hour ago, felt so distant as the day’s mission weighed heavily.  But they didn’t have time to succumb to that weight, because they had to shower and dress and prepare.  And they had to be out of their in an hour. 

To go and meet with the man they put away eight years ago…Kingpin himself, Wilson Fisk.

* * *

**_12 Years Ago –_ ** _New York City_

_“James, stop.  Everyone is right outside the door.”_

_“Hmm.  I think we’re gonna have to get used to that Wanda.  We’re all gonna be at each other’s apartments **a lot,** after we move here.”_

_Wanda couldn’t help but grin against Bucky’s hold on her as he kissed the back of her neck.  The truth was, as ridiculous and handsy as he was being right now, he had a point.  Things were about to drastically change for the 11 friends from Quantico as they embarked on their journey to the Big Apple._

_It was Saturday._

_Fury had broken the news to them yesterday._

_Seven of them made the trip together in a limo that Loki demanded he pay for, earlier today.  On the way up, they’d tried to give him cash, but he refused, “Consider this my gift to all of you, since you’ll be paying me back with places to crash in the future, indefinitely.  In fact, I think once you boys and girls find apartments today, I’m going to start planning our very first ‘Welcome to New York’ party.  Maybe even for next weekend.”_

_Bruce, Tony, Thor, and Rhodey stayed back at Quantico.  Tony already had a condo lined up.  And Rhodey, Bruce, and Thor found a townhouse through an online listing already, that the three of them planned to rent for their first year._

_But the rest of them were inside of a cozy limo that Loki organized.  Wanda and Natasha surrounded him at the back as Steve and Bucky sat adjacent to them on the sides._

_The women had had already talked about it at great length, but Wanda had to ask again, “Loki, are you sure you don’t want to live with Maria, Natasha, and me?  I mean, it’d sure be a lot of fun.”  Natasha added, “It wouldn’t be that hard to find a four-bedroom, Loki.  We will just have to look a little more than what we had planned today…”_

_Loki was shaking them off, “Ladies, I adore you both.  Truly.  We’ll be friends until we’re wrinkly and gray and sipping on prune juice.  So, take this with a grain of salt when I say… **No**.”  Natasha bit back a laugh as Wanda looked a little annoyed while he went on, “Wanda, don’t look at me like that.  I love you and Natasha.  And even those cavemen boyfriends of yours…”_

_They looked at the two aforementioned cavemen at that particular moment.  Steve kept messing with a bunch of buttons on the door and window next to him.  And Bucky kept opening the ice bucket to see if somehow, something new would appear._

_You can take the boys out of Brooklyn…_

_“Cavemen is putting it nicely…” Loki continued, “Anyway.  I love you, but I am not the type of person who will do well with roommates.  We’ll see each other all the time.  We’ll work with each other every day, and we’ll see each other on the weekends even more than we did at Quantico.  Trust me, we’ll be around each other constantly.  But…I’m not living with you.  When I need space?  I **need** my space.  And I definitely don’t need to hear the six of you flirting…and doing god knows what else with each other.”_

_Sam and Maria peeked over at them from the opposite end.  They were in the midst of ‘said’ flirting as Maria shrugged her shoulders like it was no big deal and Sam wiped a little champagne off her cheek.  Wanda groaned at the site, “I don’t understand them.  How can two people flirt like that and not actually do anything about it?”_

_Loki actually laughed, “Wanda, you do remember how Natasha and Steve tried to be friends five months ago, right?  I mean, it was comical.  They were like sex on a stick, just waiting to happen.”_

_Natasha smacked Loki as Steve looked up from the buttons on his door to give a harsh stare as he went on, “Or Wanda…it’s like when you kept trying to say no to Barnes when he set the world record for how many times a man could get shot down from asking a woman on a date.  I mean, his dignity may have been lost.  But the whole charade was priceless from my standpoint.  Some people flirt as a lead up.  And some people just flirt.”_

_Sam heard Loki and gave a cocky nod in agreement.  But Wanda looked at Natasha and mumbled, “And some people just need to get their heads out of their asses.”  Their conversation was broken when Bucky tried to stick his head out of the sun roof, “Wooohoooo.  I’m the king of the world!”_

_Everyone groaned at the lame callback to a certain romantic drama, about a famous sunken ship, as Loki chuckled, “Yes, Wanda.  It absolutely amazes me how you were ever able to say no to that man’s charm five months ago.”  Everyone laughed at poor Bucky’s expense as they finished their trek into the city._

_And now?_

_Wanda was pulling James away, from what would potentially be her bedroom as she stopped him from leaving a red mark on the back of her neck.  She looked over at Maria and Natasha who were opening and closing cupboards, and then they were walking over to the fireplace.  Maria was the first one to say something as she opened up the sliding door and peeked onto the deck, “Well we’ve looked at three other places, ladies.  But I think this one is it.  What do you think?”_

_Wanda was in immediate agreement, and Natasha followed along, but Steve caught her gaze._

_The men had already found their place.  They weren’t as picky, and honestly were happy with the first apartment they stopped at.  It was three blocks away from this one, and was more than perfect for them.  They were all planning their big move to the Big Apple, but they were also planning to stay within the circumference of each other too.  So, hearing that the women liked this apartment?  They couldn’t be happier about it._

_And Loki had meant what he said in the limo.  He needed his own space, but he was clever and mischievous as always.  He was already planning their first get together for next weekend, “We’ll call it a move-in party, Bucky.  I think your apartment will be best for initiating us into the city.  And I’m sure we will all make it a night to remember.”  Wanda turned around as she was walking out the door, “I think I’m onto you, Loki.  You just want to trash someone else’s place and not have to worry about cleaning up the next day.”_

_“Wanda, I’m the life of the party.  I can’t be concerned with trivial things like cleaning up after Bucky and Sam’s beer pong remnants.”  Sam and Bucky high fived at that notion and headed towards the door too.  They were all, already looking forward to their first actual weekend of living in the city as they walked downstairs for the women to officially sign their lease._

_“Hey Buck, will you call Mom and let her know we’ll be in Brooklyn in about 40 minutes?”  Bucky yelled back a yes to Steve as the door shut, leaving him and Natasha in the empty three-bedroom space._

_“It’s nice of your mom to feed us today, Steve.  The guys are going to be sorry they didn’t come once they find out they missed Sarah’s cooking at her house.”  Steve grinned at her, “Well, they’ll have plenty of chances in the future.  We all will.  I think Mom was even more excited than all of us to hear we’d be moving to New York.”_

_Natasha let out a small laugh before she looked down at the ground for a little bit.  Steve came over to her right away, noticing how quiet she’d gotten, “Nat, what is it?”_

_“It’ll sound really stupid to you, Steve.”  Steve frowned at her words as he rested his hands on her shoulders, “Impossible.  Spit it out, Romanoff.”_

_She blew a breath out, “Okay.  Just…don’t make fun of me.  But this whole thing of living with other women.  With friends.  I…I don’t know if I’ll be any good at it.  I’ve never done it before.”  Steve looked at her like she was speaking fully in Russian right now, because she wasn’t making any sense to him as she went on, “I know Maria, Wanda, and I are close.  And I know in the field, we’ll be great teammates.  And going out?  Sure, that’s always fun.  It’s just that…Well, besides Clint, you’re the only other person that I’ve spent so much time in a small space with, Steve.  What if…they get tired of me?”_

_Steve tried to hold back a grin, because he knew she was being serious.  But he couldn’t help it.  Natasha was as tough as nails.  She could kick anyone’s ass most days, and had been through more in her life before she joined Quantico, than anyone could even fathom._

_But with all of that wear and tear on her, Natasha was still so fresh and bright-eyed when it came to what a normal life consisted of.  She’d started to discover those small things.  Things like meeting his mother.  Friends.  Going out, and learning to trust and open up, and letting people in.  With each one of those experiences, her face always got this little sense of wonder on it, like she didn’t know if what she was looking at was something real, or something she’d only seen on T.V. growing up._

_It never got old to Steve.  He loved being the one to help introduce her to normalcy.  To love.  To a life.  And he’d never tire of it in the future either.  It’s part of what made them who they were as a couple.  And on top of it, Natasha’s little pout as she drew her lip between her teeth, was adorable as could be._

_Steve gave her a smile, “Natasha, come her.”  He pulled her into a hug as she let out a breath, “Listen to me.  This?  Having all of this…me, friends, family.  My mom already wanting all of us to come over for a welcome brunch at her house next Sunday.  Clint agreeing to move to New York too.  It is all going to be **so** **good** for you.  Trust me, the last thing Wanda and Maria are going to do is ever get tired of you.  You spice up any situation, Natasha.  You make it better.  Those women love you, just like the entire team does.  And I happen to be pretty fond of you too.”_

_Natasha was finally smiling again, “You are, huh?  I mean…if you’re so fond of me, then why don’t we just move in together, Steve.  We practically live together now.”_

_Steve chuckled.  He knew what she was doing.  And they’d talked about this already, late into the evening after they’d gotten the news from Fury yesterday.  They’d even talked about it before yesterday, when placements were still unknown.  And truthfully?  There was a large part of Steve, that wanted to move in with Natasha right away.  That wanted to create their own little world in their own apartment, together.  But there was a larger part of Steve, that knew it would be selfish of him, if he allowed that to happen._

_Natasha had never even experienced a normal school setting growing up.  She’d never lived through teenage angst and crushes and gossip with girlfriends.  She never had a homecoming dance or prom, or slumber parties on the weekends.  She never got to experience what it was like to be a child or a teenager. **This** was important.  Just as learning to trust him was.  And learning to open up and start living.  Just as making the decision to tell Ivan and Oksana off, and threaten them with her list of names, to buy her and Clint’s freedom.  All of it was important in varying degrees.  _

_But Natasha getting to experience normalcy?   Well, that was important in the best of ways._

_Natasha deserved to know, what it was to have girlfriends and roommates.  To have a life, outside of her love with Steve.  So, Steve shook his head at her words, “I know what you’re trying to do, Nat.  But this is going to be good for you.  Stretch your wings.  Live with friends.  Experience new things.  Live a life you never thought you’d get to.  Believe me, us spending the night in each other’s rooms isn’t going to change, but you’ll see.  You’ll be glad you had this time with them, Nat.  And we’ll have all the time in the world to live together in the future.”_

_Natasha felt a warmth in her chest at Steve’s words.  Yes, she was scared.  Yes, she had foolish doubt creeping inside of her, because the life she was meant to live, didn’t have room for friends.  The world she was brought up in, was isolative and cold.  Not warm and friendly._

_This was always just a dream.  But now, that normalcy was in her grasp, and she had the man holding her to thank for so much of it, “Thank you, Steve.  For believing in me always.  And for always knowing what I need, even if I don’t yet.”_

_He kissed her forehead one last time, “Okay, we better catch up to them before they start calling out a search party for us.  Remember, we’ll have all the time in the world, Nat.”_

_All the time in the world…_

_What a crazy notion in their tragic tale.  But that’s truly what it felt like as they held each other for a second longer.  It didn’t matter what memories their pasts held, or what realities their futures would bring.  The only thing that mattered, was the moment that they were standing in right now.  In Natasha’s future apartment with her friends.  In their future together, as they embarked on this brand-new adventure in their life._

_It was exciting and nerve-wracking, but most importantly, it was something to be thankful for._

* * *

**_12 Years Ago –_ ** _Quantico_

_Fury walked out into the middle of the stage in the auditorium.  The room was filled with nervous tension that had the air buzzing.  It was Friday.  Hogan’s Alley was done.  The assessments were in.  Fury and his team’s decisions were final.  It was the moment that every trainee had been waiting for, for over five months now.  To finally find out where they would be going in a week, after graduation._

_“Some of you may be wondering what tricks I have up my sleeves today, in finding out your placements.  Unfortunately, there are no more tricks.  You’ve been here over five months.  And pending your final physicals and classroom work next week, you’ve made it through.  Congratulations.  Now it’s time to go and see your results and find out where you’ll be moving to in a week.”_

_That was it._

_Ripping the band-aid off sounded nice in comparison to Fury’s blunt statement._

_Everyone looked around the auditorium a little dumbfounded as Tony mumbled, “Wow.  Imagine what he’d be like as a stand-up comedian.”_

_The 11 of them sat in their two rows in the auditorium and let everyone else pour out into the hallway to discover their assignments.  Fury words came out so quick, that it left them all a little speechless._

_None of them knew exactly what to expect, coming in to today.  But all the trainees that were exiting the auditorium, except for the 11 of them, were about to stand and face the music because real life came calling._

_Some of them were strong classmates, and would receive placements in the top office of their choosing.  Some were mediocre, and wouldn’t be placed where they wanted.  But they’d still get placed at an office that needed new recruits.  The weakest trainees in the class…that were barely squeaking by, would just be happy to be placed anywhere._

_It was all a natural cycle, as class after class went through Quantico with strong, middle of the road, and weaker trainees.  And as the field offices around the country would gain and lose agents each year for a variety of reasons._

_But for Fury to come out, and bluntly say the words like he just had?  It left the 11 of them, all a little jarred.  The abruptness shouldn’t have surprised them because it was Fury.  But if Fury spoke for 15 seconds or 15 minutes, it wouldn’t have mattered.  They still would have felt the inevitability that had been growing inside of them…that everything was about to change._

_Because it was._

_Once they walked out of those auditorium doors, the chemistry they’d formed in their little family of friends would change instantaneously, because they’d all be going their separate ways.  And they didn’t really know what to do or say, because quite honestly, not a single one of them was ready for it all to be over._

_That was a part of life too.  Starting and ending a journey._

_Time can be fickle.  And some journeys can seem long and drawn-out.  And yes, while there’d been fights and scuffles.  Arguments and mishaps.  Yes, while tension ran high amongst these 11 friends over the last five and a half months…the good drowned all of it out.  They had formed this incredible bond, and now as the end approached, the only thing that all of them were thinking, was how much they wanted the journey to continue._

_Fury wasn’t been playing mind games with the rest of the class.  All of the other trainees deserved to know their placements right away.  And there was no easy way to tell the class that they got their top choice, or none of their choices, or that Fury had to pull strings for some of the weaker trainees to get placed at all.  That was how it worked every year, and Fury was just as blunt with the class that came through before this one.  He simply did what needed to be done for everyone else._

_But for the 11 trainees sitting in his auditorium still?  Fury was keeping watch, from behind the curtain as May and Coulson stood close._

_“Fury, aren’t you going to just tell them?  You know they’re all sitting there, filled with anxiety,” Coulson said as May shrugged her shoulders, “Oh Phil, stop being so soft.  They’re all going to be screaming for joy in 15 minutes.  I for one, want to see if maybe Stark even sheds a tear because he’s not ready to leave his friends.  We all know Wanda will cry.  Should we place bets?”_

_Fury looked back at his two lead instructors and shook his head at Phil, “And you think I’m twisted?  I am just drawing this out a little.  I’m not reveling in anyone’s heartache, like Melinda over there.”  Phil shook his head at the love of his life, and at the leader he’d followed for a good portion of his life, “Oh come on, Fury.  Sometimes I think you and Melinda are cut from the same cloth.  She might say it, but there’s a part of you that actually gets joy from watching them squirm.  I mean, look at Wanda and Barnes’ faces.  They almost look like they could be sick because they’re so worried they’re going to be separated.  Just tell them.”_

_Bruce, who was the calmest at the moment, let out a sigh, “Okay guys, I think we just need to go and see what lies ahead for us.  I’ll go and take a look if you want me to.”  No one responded, so he made his way to the door.  It’d been a few minutes already, and the lines of trainees were already thinning out.  So, it didn’t take long for Bruce to come back into the auditorium.  Only now, he didn’t look calm at all, because he couldn’t figure out what was going on, “Steve, will you come back here for a second?”_

_Now, **that** got everyone’s attention.  May, Coulson, and Fury perked up too.  They couldn’t help but grin.  But Bruce and his friends were not smiling.  They were really worried as Steve got up and found his way back to Bruce.  They left the auditorium and were back inside a minute later.  _

_“Rogers, what is it?”  Tony stood up as everyone followed._

_Steve drew his hands on his hips and had a skeptical look in his eye.  What Bruce and Steve had seen, was that none of their names were on any list outside.  And while that might induce a little panic in a couple of his friends right away, Steve knew.  He **knew** that something was off.  There was no way that all 11 of them wouldn’t be placed somewhere.  There was no way most of them wouldn’t get top placement if there was space at the desired field office.  They were all that talented. _

_Steve saw the curtain move on stage and the little tingle in his stomach started firing on all cylinders, “Yeah, Tony.  I don’t think anyone should go look at the lists outside.  Because I think we’re all where we’re supposed to be right now.  Isn’t that right, Fury?”_

_Steve’s voice got a little louder at the end.  And Phil was positively beaming at Fury’s annoyed expression on his face, “Well, Nick.  I guess you and Melinda won’t be reveling in anyone’s tears just yet.  Why don’t you go and tell them the good news?  Live a little and enjoy the moment with your future FBI Team.”_

_Melinda even sighed and gave Fury a little nudge before he finally relented to go back on the stage._

* * *

_Steve and Bruce sat back down.  They weren’t going to say anything about names not being on lists right now, because Fury had heard Rogers, and was standing in front of them again, with May and Coulson behind him._

_Steve didn’t know anything for certain.  But somewhere in his stomach, there was a feeling.  Fury had kept their group separate for Hogan’s Alley.  He’d even let it slip with how high his expectations were of them during the week’s tests.  Steve didn’t know for sure what was going on.  But somehow, he felt positive that things were going to work out._

_“What is going on, Steve?” Natasha whispered.  He reached over and grabbed her hand, “I don’t know, Nat.  But something tells me, we’re about to get some good news.”_

_Fury’s voice broke through their hushed voices and thoughts as he spoke loudly._

_“You see, here’s another lesson in life.  Trust.  Moles.  Weapons and surveillance.  Learning to be a part of a team, and to be strong enough to go out into the field on your own.  All of that shit is important, but there’s just a harsh lesson that we all need to remember sometimes.  Things rarely go according to plan.”_

_Fury actually looked a little more relaxed as his shoulders settled, but the 11 trainees in front of him, were more confused than ever, “I had this idea that the 11 of you were going to be freaking out by now, after seeing that your names were not on any placement lists outside.”_

_A couple of breaths were heard as Fury went on, “But the 11 of you haven’t done anything like I predicted since day one.  Back when Rogers and Romanoff almost killed each other on the first day, competing in their stupid physical fitness tests.  Back when Romanoff and May almost killed each other on the mats.  And back when Stark let everyone know how big of a chip he was just going to have to remove from his shoulder, before you all started to warm up to him.  That first night you all sat around the campfire and he tried to pick a fight with Rogers and Romanoff.”_

_Tony was about to say something, defending his standoffish behavior at the beginning, before Fury held up his hand, “This is not a Q and A, Stark.  So, do yourself a favor and just stop talking before you’ve even started.  You’ll thank me later.”_

_Rhodey and Thor held back laughs as Tony looked a little stunned.  They **all** looked a little stunned as Fury started to reveal just how watchful of an eye he’d been keeping on them.  And Fury…was just getting started._

_“I was convinced going into that trust test halfway through, that you’d all be kicking and screaming at each other before you went into your weekends.  But that didn’t go according to plan either, did it?  You all figured out in that moment, what your mantra would actually be here.  That by trusting and working with each other, you’d all be stronger together, right?  You should nod your heads, because you shoved it down my throat enough in your assessments, that it’s on repeat in my own head right now.”_

_Some of the confusion started to wipe away from the friends and a couple of smirks even started to appear.  Because slowly but surely, they were all realizing that Fury had them all in front of him for something good.  They didn’t know what, yet.  But it was something big._

_“Instructors May and Coulson used terms like impressive for some of your actions.  I would argue that Romanoff and Rogers, and Barnes and Maximoff’s stubborn attitudes were impressive during TEVOC.  Stark and pretty much everyone’s ability to be a competitive ass were **impressive** during the Mole test.  All of your abilities to act like a bunch of idiots, whether it be around a campfire, or playing tag and stealing my damn megaphone a couple of weekends ago, because you all wanted to drink every braincell away in your body, was impressive.”_

_Okay, embarrassment started creeping up on a lot of their faces right now.  Especially Tony, since Fury was staring straight at him, knowing that he was the one who stole his megaphone.  Ironically, relief was felt between Steve and Natasha.  While Fury had seen a lot, he clearly hadn’t noticed Natasha’s foolish actions in the server room during the Mole test._

_“What is not impressive, is your experience as an FBI Agent…Yet.”_

_So, Fury was trying to impress upon them how ‘unimpressed,’ he was with all of their competitive behavior, stubborn attitudes, arguments, and shenanigans over the last five months.  And he was trying to say they didn’t have a lick of experience as an agent…yet._

_Mission accomplished…But even through all of the cynicism caked onto his hard exterior, Fury was slowly showing his hand.  Pretty much everyone was smiling now, including May and Coulson.  They all had the feeling that not only was this big, but it was fucking huge for them, both individually and as a group._

_“But…I must admit.  Even through all of that, you’ve all shown a hell of a lot of promise.  And that one day, I might be standing in front of you, telling you **just** how impressive you all are as actual agents in the FBI.”_

_Fury looked at them all one last time, before he changed their worlds forever._

_“You’ve just become part of a bigger universe, you just don’t know it yet…The reason why none of you are on the lists outside of this auditorium, is because you’re not being placed, individually.  I’ve been approved to lead a group of recent graduates, by my own choosing.  And that group and I will be working out of the New York City field office.”_

_All of the nervous tension and anxiety from before immediately shifted with the words ‘New York City.’  Yes, there was still a buzz, but it was from excitement and utter disbelief.  There was so much disbelief at his words, that everyone had been stunned into silence._

_“The group of my choosing will be under my direction.  A strong team in the field is hard to find, because chemistry, like the chemistry you exhibit with each other, is a rarity in life.  So, the FBI wants to strike while the iron is hot.  But do not hear those words and think you have nothing to learn.  Because you **always** have something to learn.  This journey will be harder than any test you’ve taken here.  So, if you’re going to make the trek, be prepared to work harder and longer.  To dig deeper within yourselves.  And to be able to handle each other’s personalities.  There will be times you want to yell at each other, and times you may even want to strangle each other.  But if you decide to do this, you will have each other to rely on, more than anyone else.  So, you need to work through the bad if you’re going to celebrate the good.  I wouldn’t be asking you, if I didn’t see you all had those abilities.”_

_“Are you asking us, Fury?”_

_Loki had asked the question._

_Every single one of the 11 friends looked like some version of a clown with their perma-smiles on their faces.  Fury stared at him for a second longer, before finally giving up the desire to draw this out any further, “Yes, Loki.  I’m asking if the 11 of you, are interested in this once in a lifetime chance, to move to New York City.  To work in the FBI there together, with the teammates you’ve formed a kinship with here.  And to start taking down criminals, both small and large in one of the most demanding field offices in the country.”_

_Hungry and ready, Bucky and Sam high fived each other immediately as Wanda wiped a tear away and Natasha bit her lip and looked down, finding Steve’s hand.  They all knew what this meant.  They wouldn’t be separated by distance.  They wouldn’t be separated for a certain time period, waiting for each other to be able to transfer._

_Instead, they would stay together in a physical space as couples.  And they would **all** stay together as friends._

_“That’s only if you accept.  I know you’ll all have to think long and hard about it.”_

_They didn’t think long at all.  Steve started laughing as he looked over at Natasha and squeezed her hand right back.  Bucky kissed Wanda on the cheek.  And then…a little bit of a frenzy ensued.  Pretty much at the same time, the 11 of them jumped out of their seats as they all began clapping and hugging each other._

_Bucky and Steve.  Loki and Wanda and Natasha.  Tony and Rhodey.  Bruce and Thor.  And Sam and Maria.  Excited yells and smiles.  Hugs and handshakes, that almost turned into tackles on the ground.  Smiles and kisses on cheeks, with even a few tears.  It was all on display as they all realized their biggest worry and fear had been snapped out of existence._

_Not only were they all going to a place that was pretty much at the top of each of their placement lists, but they were all going there together._

_Fury was done.  He’d shared, and the rest would follow.  And he’d be annoyed with them soon enough again, so he wanted to let them have their moment alone.  But he finished with, “Try not to get arrested tonight as you go out and celebrate.  Try to just finish out next week with your last physicals and exams, without annoying me too much.  Try to not make me regret any of this.  Because right now, I’m pretty damn happy with my decision, so don’t ruin it.  Ask May and Coulson.  I like being happy, contrary to what you may think.”_

_One last pause as he turned to exit stage left, and added, “Individuals can accomplish anything when they realize they’re a part of something bigger.  So, just try to remember over the next week.  And over the next months and years to come.  That you’re all part of something bigger now.  And you’ll be stronger together.  Or something like that.”_

_Fury grinned as he and May and Coulson walked off.  They were actually going to celebrate tonight.  It’d been a long five months.  They still had a week left, but the grueling trials and tribulations were done…At Quantico at least.  Their real journey was about to begin after graduation was over, and their move to New York City lied ahead.  But right now, none of that was on anyone’s mind._

_Right now, they were realizing separations and distance were no longer a possibility between them.  That five months of building worries had been wiped away in the span of five minutes.  And all any of them could think, was how much they had to be thankful for._

* * *

**Present Day -**

“We’ll be there in five minutes, Rogers.  The three of you should make sure you have everything ready, because you’ll want to move fast once we stop.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant Hill.”

Steve started checking over his vest under his uniform, and then turned to do the same for Natasha and Loki as they sat next to him.  They’d left the compound about an hour prior and met up with the transport van they were in right now about 30 minutes ago.  And as Lieutenant Hill said, they were five minutes away from Rikers Island.

Yesterday, Sam was the one to actually think of the perfect solution.  On how Natasha, Steve, and Loki were going to find their way into the prison and go undetected. 

It was in the middle of their meeting after things had settled down with Ross, “Steve, let me call Maria’s father.  I’m not going to tell him anything about where we are.  But man, he has a right to know what happened to his daughter and that I’ll at least keep him posted on how she’s doing.  And…I think he might be the solution on getting us into Rikers.”

Cage and Jessica both asked at the same time, “How, Sam?” 

They didn’t know that Maria came from a family of police officers in New York.  They didn’t know the pride her father and her family had when she became an FBI Agent, and then the Assistant Director of Homeland Security.  She was a rising star to everyone she encountered after Quantico.  But to her friends and her NYPD family, she was always a star, period. 

Her father, a Lieutenant in the NYPD, may not have had as close of a relationship with some of the team as say, Sarah Rogers.  But he still knew them well.  He’d been around them plenty over the years.  Especially Natasha and Wanda, when Maria lived with them.  And then also, Steve and Bucky and Sam as a result. 

Sam knew him the best out of everyone in the room, “Her dad knows people in every profession, all over the city.  So, if there’s a prison guard that can be trusted to get us a transport vehicle, to help sneak you inside?  Well, Lieutenant Hill would do it for Maria and for us in a second.  Hell, he’d do it for Maria alone with how much he loves her and with what she is going through right now.”

It was a great idea.  Steve looked at Fury for a second before nodding to Sam to make the phone call.  That was what’d started their planning the previous evening. 

It was their way in.

And Wilson was right.  Lieutenant Hill was so relieved that Sam called.  He knew Maria was working on something big for the last couple of months, but she was allusive when she checked in with him.  But it’d been over a week since Maria last called, so he was starting to get worried.  Her father trusted Sam when he told him that Maria was going to be okay in the long run.  But that she was going to have a rough go of it for a while.  Then, that worry instantly turned to anger, and fueled his need and desire to help in any way he could.  Lieutenant Hill didn’t need to know specifics beyond the vague details Sam gave him about a lot of people being in danger in this country if they didn’t move fast. 

Sam ended the call with, “Sir, you’re probably going to be hearing some crazy stories in the news over the next few days.  Just know that none of it is true.”  Lieutenant Hill scoffed and simply responded, “I know my daughter.  And I’ve known you and your team for years, Wilson.  Anyone that is worth anything, will know a load of crap when they see or hear it.  Tell Rogers, he can count on me to help.  You just take care of my daughter.”

That part was set.  After a couple of phone calls to a man he knew well at the prison, and a little coordination, Lieutenant Hill had helped. 

And now?  Steve, Natasha, and Loki were all in a transport van from Rikers, early in the morning after the ‘load of crap’ news had already broken.  It wasn’t even 8:00 am yet as they approached the prison, crossing the Rikers Island Bridge.   

Loki and Natasha patted their vests down one last time.  Loki and Steve were wearing prison guard uniforms.  And Natasha was in a black pantsuit, black-rimmed glasses, and a blonde wig.  She was posing as an auditor that was coming to review some of the facilities.  It was basic enough, and the guard who Lieutenant Hill trusted, said that the audit was scheduled for later today anyway, and thought it would be a perfect way in. 

That same guard was an older gentleman named Stan.  He was driving the van, wearing his own uniform.

Lieutenant Hill turned around in the passenger seat in the front to look at Steve, “Rogers, you have an hour.  Only an hour, because that’s when guard shift changes.  From what Stan’s told me, you’ll see how much Fisk has settled in over the last eight years here.  Remember, you have an hour to get in, meet with Fisk, and get out.  If that all goes according to plan, Stan can escort you out, and I’ll be waiting for you in the van.  But don’t be late.  They stick to a tight and crisp schedule here.”

Steve looked at Loki and Natasha.  If they paused to actually think, they might actually show how nervous they all were right now.  But there wasn’t time.  Steve nodded at them, and shook Hill’s hand, “Thank you again, Sir.”  Maria’s father nodded and repeated himself from before, “Remember, Rogers. Only an hour.”

* * *

The task-force trio, and the only legitimate prison guard in the bunch, all made it past the main entrance as Stan led them through the security check point and into the lobby area. 

Stan went to get Natasha a visitor badge.  The three of them were nervous on the inside yes, but Stan was actually showing some of that worry on the outside.  Another guard that was handing him the visitor badge at the main entrance asked, “Hey Officer Lee, you feeling okay?  You look a little pale today.” 

Stan wiped the sweat off of his brow and shook off the other guard, “No, it’s just these damn auditors.  They’re always showing up early.  Already getting off track today, you know?  Let’s just keep her happy and give her the visitor badge.  Then she can tell us how much we need to fix around here, right?”

The other guard laughed and believed every word as he gave Stan the badge, but finished with asking, “Are those two new guards with the auditor?  They look fresh-faced to me.”

Loki and Steve pretended to be talking with one another, with their hats and uniforms on.  Stan looked back at them and then back at his co-worker, “You know how the auditors are.  She demanded that her own security detail be allowed to come along for this one, so they were given guard uniforms and everything.” 

The threat of this side operation going sideways before it even started felt very high, as Natasha looked around in her glasses and wig, acting like she was already taking in the surroundings as an auditor. 

“Pains in the asses, man.  All of ‘em,” his co-worker bought everything as Stan smiled and pretended to agree with him before returning to Natasha with her badge.  The three of them followed Stan down a side corridor and turned right before Loki finally whispered, “I can’t believe how smooth that was.  Nice work there, Stan.”

Stan grinned with his own little hint of mischief in his eyes, “I haven’t felt this energized in years.  I need to work undercover more often.”

Stan was former military himself and a retired veteran already.  But he decided to keep serving the city he loved as a part-time C.O. in his twilight years.  Rikers administrators were happy to get the help where they could and kept Stan mostly on transports and lighter duties.  Stan had worked at the prison for close to 10 years and had decided that he was going to truly retire sometime over the next year. 

Maybe it would’ve been easier for a man like Officer Lee to hide his head in the sand while riding his final year of working out. 

Yes, it would have been easier to not stick his neck out for an odd and dangerous undercover operation like this one.  But easy was not an adjective that described men like Stan.  He was made of the same stuff that Maria’s father was.  The same grit that the task-force had inside of them.  And the same resolve and determination that men like Abraham Erskine had running through their blood.  As Sarah Rogers once said about her sons, Stan was made of the good stuff in life. 

So, when his friend Lieutenant Hill called him up late last night and asked him for a favor, Stan was going to do what he always did.  He was going to do what was right.  So, pushing past any nerves that had initially emerged, Stan kept escorting the trio down the hall until he knew he was out of earshot from the main entrance. 

Natasha put the badge around her neck as she caught the sign of ‘Visiting Rooms’ with an arrow to the right.  Her, Steve and Loki moved to turn in the same direction, but Stan stopped them, “Where do you think you’re going?”

Steve turned toward him, “Isn’t Fisk waiting for us in the visiting area?”

Stan chuckled, “You got a lot to learn, kid.  Fisk doesn’t meet with people up here…Follow me.”

The three of them exchanged quick glances before they fell in line with Officer Lee again as he turned left.  They were headed down another dimly lit hallway, leading to a large service elevator, which they were standing inside of, 30 seconds later.  Stan pushed the button to send it down three levels, into the guts of the prison.

Loki raised his brow at Natasha, “What are we doing, going down to the bottom of the prison, Stan?”

Stan paused and looked toward the three of them before sighing, “You know.  You make a difference where you can in this world.  Men like Fisk…there are a lot of them.  Maybe not as powerful.  Maybe not as violent.  Maybe not with as much money.  But men that look for shortcuts and that think that they can make people bend to their will.  You and your team put Fisk away eight years ago.  And that’s all well and good.  But he didn’t stop being a criminal just because he was locked up.  Instead of running the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, he’s found a way to create his own little kingdom inside these walls.”

Natasha and Steve looked at each other as Stan continued, “I can’t do anything about the corruption that Fisk brings with him here.  At least he’s contained inside here though.  Happens in prisons all over the country.  Natural selection takes place, and certain inmates get the little power there is to actually wield inside these walls.  Fisk has done that.  But what I _can_ do something about, is helping the team that made New York safer eight years ago, by getting him off the streets.” 

Natasha squeezed Steve’s hand.  Something about Stan…reminded her of Erskine.  An older gentleman, sure.  But beyond that, he was a man that was good, in a world that could so easily be confused as bad.  He was a man still trying to stand and fight for his country, years after retiring as a veteran.  And as a soldier who’d already fought. 

Even though his efforts may have seemed small in the grand scheme of things, they weren’t.  Whether help was big are small, it didn’t matter as Natasha smiled at him.  He was a man that was doing what was right.  And it only reinforced everything to her and Steve and Loki once again.  There were a million other reasons as to why Poseidon needed to be stopped.  But the most basic of reasons, Stan exhibited now. 

It was simply the right thing to do. 

Steve squeezed her hand right back as Stan finished his little talk, “On the outside, Fisk was a man who was king in his own little world.  A man who oversaw how the sausage was made in the underbelly of crime.  It’s only fitting, that he’s meeting with you in the guts of the prison.   You’re on your own once these doors open, so I think it’s time I simply say, “Nuff Said.  And good luck.”

The elevator groaned as it traveled down the throat of the prison to land inside of its stomach.  If Natasha truly were an auditor, new lightbulbs would be first on her list of repairs.  Because the hallway that awaited them was even darker than the one they’d just left. 

Just as the first overhead light flickered above them, Loki said, “Well isn’t this all fitting scenery to add to this nightmare.”  The joke was cut short as they walked out of the elevator and Steve reminded them, “It’s already been fifteen minutes.  Lieutenant Hill said an hour, tops.  We don’t waste more than 30 minutes with Fisk.  We may need whatever information he has, but he can’t be trusted.”

The tapping sound from Natasha’s heels echoed down the concrete hallway.  And just as she was about to comment on the eerie quiet, accompanying the flickering lights, she stopped, “Listen, Steve.  Loki, do you hear that?”  They did.  It was the distinct sound of classical music playing as they stared at each other, completely confused. 

Three guards were walking their way and didn’t bat an eye at the task-force trio.  They simply looked at them and kept walking.  If there was any question as to what Stan was talking about with Fisk wielding power in the prison, it was being answered right now.  Those guards clearly knew the three of them were going to see Fisk.

Their pace quickened as they followed the thick piping overhead and cemented walls and floors toward the end of the hallway.  They were at a T-intersection and turned left because that’s where the music was coming from.  They didn’t have guns on them, because Stan and Lt. Hill told them they wouldn’t be allowed inside with any firearms.  But they did have tasers and nightsticks, and Natasha even had a knife she’d hid in her pants pocket that was made of a specialized carbon fiber that went undetected by the metal detector they went through earlier. 

Another 30 seconds of fast-paced walking, and they were outside of a door, with two guards standing by the entrance.  They both had the same expression on their faces as the three did that just met them in the hallway.

Complacency. 

They were expecting the trio.  That much was clear as the stepped away from the door and as the stringed instruments of the classical music’s crescendo welcomed them.  The steel door creaked open, revealing a small room.  What Natasha, Steve, and Loki saw next, left the three of them all thinking the same thing.

_What the fuck was going on?_

‘Kingpin’ was at a small dining table.  At least that’s how it appeared.  It was a steel table underneath, but there was a black linen tablecloth on top.  Two candles burned bright.  And Wilson Fisk was sitting on the opposite side of the table that they faced, eating steak and eggs on white porcelain dishes, using pristine silverware.  He was dabbing his mouth with a bright red linen napkin.  If his shackles weren’t still on his wrists and feet, they might have forgotten they were in a prison at all.

The same line repeated over and over in their heads as the music was turned down by the guards, ‘ _What the fuck was going on?’_  

Natasha, Steve, and Loki felt like they’d stepped into the twilight zone.  Because this was beyond odd.  Not only was Fisk eating by himself in his shackles and grey prison jumpsuit, but he was _fine dining_ in the basement of Rikers, eating fucking steak and eggs with real metal silverware.  Real porcelain dishes and candlelight.  And real music playing on the small stereo in the corner.  There were about 25 different weapons that could be constructed from everything in this room within seconds, and that no prisoner should _ever_ have access to.

Lt. Hill and Officer Lee’s words from before, echoed in their brains as Steve wondered to himself, just what type of life Fisk has carved out for himself in prison. 

But before thoughts could go on, a guard turned down the stereo so the music softly hummed in the background now, and Fisk’s voice bellowed through the concrete room, “Well, this is an occasion to _celebrate_.  It’s not every day that the FBI’s 4th most wanted criminal, the great Steven Grant Rogers, and my former employee, _Talia_ , come and pay me a visit.”

Shit. 

Unfortunately, this was starting off exactly how the three of them expected.  And what they didn’t want, was to get caught in a trap of time being wasted, when the seconds of each minute were already passing by rapidly.  Steve blew out a breath, “Fisk.  You wanted this visit to happen.  What did you have to tell us?”

Fisk cut another piece of steak and ate it before he took a big swig of his coffee.  And it seemed like he didn’t blink at all with how he was staring at the three of them, “Now Mr. Rogers…is that anyway to talk to someone who you haven’t seen in such a long time?  I mean, god how the years fly by.  What’s it been, eight years?  And my, my…haven’t the three of you been busy.  I mean, Rogers, you’ve continued fighting the good fight.  What a _noble_ man you are.  But that’s not all you’ve been doing, is it?  And Loki, look at you.  Rising in the ranks of the nation’s most wanted.  And doing it the clean old-fashioned way.  Money and drugs, mostly.  Why would you stick your nose into the dealings of what real criminals like me do, right?  I thought local.  You acted global.  Good for you.”

Another drink was swallowed as the sarcasm still lingered from his words.  And as he stared at Natasha, “And then there’s _Talia._   My pretty little red-headed spitfire.  Such a short term of employment under my thumb.  But it was long enough for that fiery red hair under that blonde wig, to leave a mark, no?  The red-headed siren, and her two waitress friends take me down with an FBI raid.”

Fisk nodded his head, “But wow, that was just the tip of the iceberg with you three.  Eight years ago, it was just your normal run of the mill, FBI raid.  I go to prison.   You all go back to your life in the FBI, right?”

The sound of his menacing laugh only added to his words, “No.  It seems my end was when your stories truly got interesting.  _Talia_ turned out to be a traitorous spy, and left her love and team in the dust.” 

Fisk pointed to Loki, “And _this_ agent, turned criminal after his own team left him in the dust.” 

And then Fisk finally landed on Steve, “And then there’s you.  _Captain Rogers._ The commander of the ship that took me down.  Yeah, you fought the good fight…except there was so much more to you than I ever initially thought.  You started dipping your toes into the underworld of crime, after _Talia_ turned tail and ran _,_ didn’t you?”

Fisk didn’t let anyone interrupt him, “My god, you’ve all been busy.  Overseas travels.  Rendezvous.  Other members of your FBI team that took me down, are even married now and have a child.  And then there were funerals, but all of a sudden, _Talia_ returned from the dead for the most shocking twist of them all.”

Loki was contacted by Fisk’s man on the outside.  And maybe there had been slight hesitation, wondering how well-connected Fisk still could possibly be. 

That question was just answered.  Fisk was _very_ in the know.  He knew _way_ too much about all that the team had been up to, since he was incarcerated.  And he was taking his time too.  Loki looked like he was about to interrupt as Fisk stared him down, “So…the team reunites.  Rogers fights to the death to bring _Talia_ back from the dead.  And she returns to the team like a moth to a flame.  All to bring down a world terrorist organization that little _Talia_ was supposed to belong to.  My god, to think I was so angry when I first came here because a boring FBI team took me down.  Instead, you’re anything but boring.  It’s been almost fucking poetic watching the drama amongst you unfold over the years.”

Natasha was annoyed enough for all of them, “Fisk, quit wasting time.  You said you have information.”

The first flicker of anger appeared in Fisk’s eyes as he leered at Natasha, “ _Talia_ , is that anyway to say hello?  Maybe you feel like your time is being wasted, but I assure you, mine is not.  I am enjoying beautiful music.  A lovely breakfast like I always do, joined by warm candlelight, the quiet, and a return of some old… _friends._ ”

Loki rolled his eyes, “Alright Fisk.  I’ll just ask what Rogers and Romanoff don’t want to.  Name your price.  We are on a time frame here, and not just on prison time.  You are obviously very much in the know, with the tabs you’ve kept on us over the years.  So, you know we’re up against a clock outside as well.  Maybe you don’t care about that, but it’s why we’re here.  Name your price and tell us what you brought us here for.”

Fisk was grinning, “You’re all wound so tight.  If it’s time you need, I got news for you.  There’s nothing but time in prison.  So, maybe we switch.  Maybe you come relax and live the high life in here for a while, and I go outside and take down these pesky criminals you call Poseidon.”

Steve’s tendons in his neck were popping out as he clenched his fists, “Rogers, would you like some of this coffee?  You look like you need to relax a little.”  Steve took a tiny step forward before Fisk sat back finally, “Yeah, you’re right.  Coffee isn’t going to relax you.  I mean, _Talia_ …how do you deal with that every day and night?  Isn’t he a little intense for you?” 

Fisk looked back at Loki, “But Loki, you said, ‘Name your price.’  That is sure _intriguing_ to men like you and me…It has me thinking, for sure.  I mean, what if I said, I wanted _Talia_ to come and show me a lap dance, like she promised my colleagues eight years ago.  The three teases from the FBI that brought me and my operation to my knees.  If I asked for that, would you do it?”

He was staring at Steve now, trying to provoke him.  And it was working, but Natasha stepped forward and drew that carbon fiber knife from her pants, “Listen up you son of a bitch.  You are talking like everything is the same as it was eight years ago.  If you really kept tabs on us, you should know what someone like Loki or myself is capable of.”

Loki smirked at Natasha’s words, loving the fact that she was throwing both of them in the same end of the pool.  She walked all the way up to the table, with her knife in hand, “I don’t have a problem rolling in the mud.  My life has pretty much been all filth except for these men and my family.  And the last two years have taken nearly everything from me.  So, when those same people are threatening to take all that I have left in this world, there’s pretty much nothing I wouldn’t do to stop them.  And all you can do, is sit here with your small-minded thoughts.  You sit here, with the gall to actually ask me to shove my tits in your face with a stupid lap dance.”

Fisk and her were in a standoff as Natasha leaned forward a little more, “Yeah, I’ll give you one, Fisk, and then I’ll slit your thick fucking throat with this knife here.  And your little kingdom you’ve convinced yourself is worth anything inside this prison, will be over.  Because you won’t be locked up anymore.  You’ll be dead.  Quit playing around, and tell me what you really want.  And then you can tell me what you actually know about where Poseidon is hiding out at.”

Loki was grinning and looked over at Steve.  Steve…was not amused, but he did have the expression of someone who was locked in with Natasha and would follow her anywhere she took him right now.  They were all in this together for the long haul, one way or another. 

Fisk nodded his head before he slid his plate away and folded his hands on the table, “Well now… _Natasha,_ it is nice to see you.  If you would have shown me this side of your personality eight years ago, instead of pretending to be a helpless tramp, I would have had you head up my security team instead of wasting your efforts on seducing men.  But fine, you called my bluff.  As… _attractive_ as you may be, I have no interest in in any of _that_.  I’ll make it simple.  I walk.”

They _knew_ it. 

Was there anything else he could possibly want?  No.

Fisk may have created his faux empire of luxury inside this prison.  But make no mistake.  It was still prison.  Steak and eggs might taste good, but he was still in shackles.  He would still go to sleep in his cell.  He still wasn’t free.  It’s what Stan had talked about.  Men like him finding the little power they could and wielding it how they could.  But they were still inside these walls.  So, of course walking out of here is what he wanted.

Which is _why_ Fury pulled Steve aside this morning to have a private conversation with the leader of his team, “You listen to me, Rogers.  This is our dance with the devil.  We give Fisk what he wants if he can prove he knows something.  If he tells us where Poseidon is at, you make the deal and let him walk after Poseidon has been taken down.  It is sick and wrong, but we focus on the big picture, so we can actually live to fight another day.  And then we’ll bring the asshole down a second time, if need be.  Poseidon first.”

Steve knew it before Fury even said it.  He knew it…as soon as Loki mentioned Fisk’s name yesterday.  He hated every part of it, but Fury was right.  Dealing in the devil’s playground like this…it was part of the spectrum of philosophical debates that could drive anyone mad.  Especially an FBI agent.  It led to debates about who deserved justice more. 

Whose life was worth more? 

Did the terror that Natasha and Clint suffered, along with so many other people from Ivan and Oksana’s grasp, carry more weight than the terror that Fisk thrust upon the streets of New York?  Did the prevention of 1,000’s of innocents outweigh the brutal murders and crimes that the thuggish brute had already committed? 

It was a hell of a debate _always_ because it wasn’t that cut and dry.  And it was a sticky trap that could suck anyone in.  But they simply could not afford to debate it now.

It wasn’t ethically right, that Fisk would walk.  It wasn’t.  No part of this decision was easy, but join the fucking club because no part of Natasha, Steve, or Loki’s past seven years of existence had been easy.

In the end, a decision was made from Fury. 

And there was no hesitation from Steve.  He could hate something and know it had to be done at the same time.  Something could be ethically wrong and necessary.  And he wasn’t going to waste time arguing or debating right now, “Alright Fisk.  You want back in the real world, so you can beat up innocent people and run Hell’s Kitchen again in New York?  Fine.  You got a deal, but you aren’t stepping outside of these walls and breathing the fresh air of freedom, until we have proof that you know where Poseidon is at and they’re stopped.  Fury’s boss will get the paperwork processed.  And you’ll be released from here the minute that Poseidon is taken down.  We won’t bat an eye at your price, but you’re not getting out of here until Poseidon is done.”

Fisk…tried to hide his emotions, but Loki caught it.  There was a second of genuine surprise in his eyes.  He didn’t think Steve would be able to stomach him walking. 

What he didn’t account for, and truly didn’t have knowledge of, was just how dark and bad it had gotten for Steve and Natasha over the years.  The last two years specifically, almost killed Natasha and Steve, separately, and in very different ways.  It was needless to say, they were more than focused to bring Poseidon down.  To do whatever it took.  

The carrot was dangling, and Fisk relented.  He was in prison after all, and he’d dance with his own devil (The FBI) to get what _he wanted_ , “I’m glad to hear that, Rogers.  The world is a bastard of a storm that wears you down, isn’t it?  Makes you realize that you gotta roll around in the slop with the pigs sometimes.  Careful though…You roll around enough, and it’s hard to tell the difference between the good guys and the bad guys.  But I’m glad to hear Fury has enough sense about him to realize a good deal when he sees it.  Little ol’ me walks, and he gets to clear all of your names that are truly being drug through that slop this morning.  And you all get to take down Poseidon.”

Loki jumped on his tangent, “Proof, Fisk.  Proof first, then paperwork.  Then we take them down, and _only_ then, do you walk.”

Fisk looked straight at Loki, “National parks, land reserves, and old military bases.  The parks and reserves are open areas, where Poseidon can blend in as tourists and even workers.  And the old military bases?  Well, there’s hardly anyone at those complexes, so a group of Poseidon operatives could roll into town and throw up a small manufacturing company without an ounce of suspicion.  As long as they’re pumping money into the local economy, locals would let them be.”

Loki was doing the talking now because he had narrowed down shipping routes and data and had located three of these parks and bases across the U.S.  But he wanted to see if Fisk was talking out of his ass, or if he actually _knew,_ “That’s a pretty wide net you cast, Fisk.  There are locations that fit those descriptions in all of the contiguous 48 states.  Hell, even throw in Alaska and Hawaii, because there’s parks and old bases there too.  Narrow it down and tell me what you know.”

Fisk tilted his head towards Loki, “You’ve almost figured it out, haven’t you?  It must _absolutely_ kill you, to come here, knowing that sometimes, you just have to turn to the bad guy for help.”

It _was_ killing them.  It killed Loki, with all of his brilliance, to know that he couldn’t locate exactly where Poseidon was hiding.  And it killed each of them to have that timeless and awful lesson reinforced right now.  That you have to lose something, in order to pay the price to win sometimes. 

Fisk proceeded to list off the same exact locations as Loki did earlier, narrowing it down from all of the options nation-wide.  But he also added two new locations, which definitely drew everyone’s attention:

  * Nekoma Missile Base – Nekoma, North Dakota
  * Titan East Missile Complex – East Washington State
  * Yellowstone National Park – Wyoming
  * Fort Carroll – Baltimore, Maryland
  * Iroquois National Wildlife Reserve – 50 miles east of Niagara Falls and Niagara, New York



Damn. 

It was good that Fisk had corroborated the three locations that Loki found earlier.  _It was_.  But that just meant he truly was going to get a deal out of this.  He watched the three of them stare at each other as Steve demanded, “Narrow it down, Fisk.  Where exactly is Poseidon at?”

Fisk was reveling in all of it, pulling each little string, “Natasha, don’t you know your handlers and home country well enough, that they separate and disseminate.  They have weapons stocked in each location.  What’s that saying?  Don’t put all your eggs in one basket.”

Natasha fired back, “We’re not talking about just weapons, Fisk.  We’re talking about Ivan and Oksana.  We’re talking about Pierce.  Where are they?  You’re right, I do know them.  They might have weapons all over, but they’re all hunkered down right now, waiting to move out and finalize each little detail before they move to attack.  Where are _they?”_

Fisk had started eating his steak again and pointed at Steve with his knife, “I can see why you like her now, Rogers.  Her spirit matches your own.”

They had to swallow that bitter feeling, knowing he was going to walk if they could stop Poseidon.  And they had to stand here and watch him swallow more of his breakfast as he went on, “You know, I could send you on a wild goose chase if I wanted.  I hope you realize that.  I could tell you they were hiding out in Wyoming or Washington, or in Maryland or North Dakota.  But I won’t.  My _colleague_ …I left him in charge of everything when I was so graciously imprisoned by you…he goes by the Vulture.  It’s appropriate actually, because he sniffs out weapons all over this country just like how a vulture finds a dead carcass on the road.  So, trust me when I tell you, that if you go to any of the four states I just mentioned, you’ll find endless amounts of Stark Industries weaponry.  But you won’t find the people.  The Vulture found your Poseidon operatives in America, all hiding out in the same exact state that we’re standing in right now.  Iroquois National Wildlife Reserve.  They all used Niagara’s airport to fly into about a week ago and have been hiding out in the woods by the reserve, ever since.”

They wanted to run out of Rikers immediately, but they couldn’t.  They had to call the compound right away, “You can use your burner phones or whatever you have on you, to call your boss.  And then you can get that paperwork started now.”  But there was still more.

Natasha shook her head, “Not until you tell us everything else.  Where are the international hideouts?”

Fisk laughed, “So greedy, aren’t you?”  But he told them because he was _just_ as eager to close this deal as they were to know the information.  Stan had been right.  The limited power that Fisk had found inside the walls of Rikers, was nothing like freedom.  And he wanted out. 

Each continent’s target was a heavily populated city.  But the hideouts were all similar.  Secluded wooded areas outside of the targeted city limits.

  * London, England in Europe
  * Sydney, Australia in Australia
  * Cape Town, South Africa in Africa
  * Beijing, China in Asia
  * Rio de Janeiro, Brazil in South America



Steve sent Natasha and Loki to the other side of the room to call Fury, but they didn’t need to get any paperwork processed.  It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know what Fisk would demand. So, Fury worked with his boss and Ross the night before and gave Steve the agreement in writing, in a file this morning.  A second copy was even included for Fisk, proving the deal existed.    

Steve had been the one to bluff Fisk before, not letting on that the deal was with him the entire time.  He pulled the file out from the inside of his vest as Fisk clapped once and laughed, “Well look at you, Rogers.  You really did come to deal, didn’t you?  We didn’t come all this way, just to get to the end without a pen, now did we?”

Steve pulled a pen out and threw the file on the table, right by his almost finished plate of steak and eggs.  He looked over at Natasha and Loki, as they told Fury everything Fisk just had. 

Fury didn’t waste a second.  He sent the non-injured Mercenaries off with Hunter, Morse, and Johnson.  Those six individuals hadn’t been named in the news coverage, so they were safer to travel than anyone else.   They would make the trip and scope out the wildlife reserve, only an hour away from Niagara Falls.  Fury would spend the rest of the morning on the phone with Ross and Colonel Phillips, and trusted contacts overseas to have them send out their own surveillance teams.

Fisk was on page three, scanning over the deal, “Tell me Rogers, do you really think the Non-Disclosure Agreement is needed with this deal?  The truth always has a way of working its way out, doesn’t it?  Whether it’s Talia, Nikki, and Kiki’s truth…or Natasha’s truth…or your own.  Like all that you’ve learned about bending rules and breaking laws over the last several years.”

Natasha and Loki came back over as Steve said, “Fisk, are you signing or not?  We have what we came for.”  Fisk nodded his head, “That’s true.  But all I have to do, is contact the Vulture, and he’ll tip Poseidon off, and then you’ll be back at square one.” 

Dead silence. 

Loki, Steve, and Natasha were all grasping at straws here, as Fisk’s threat sounded every alarm inside their heads.  How in the hell could they trust him?  This deal felt equivalent to a dump truck making it across a frozen lake that was almost thawed.  Fragile, was an understatement. 

But Fisk started laughing loudly, “Being backed into a corner makes you jumpy, doesn’t it?  It’s too easy to pull your strings.  Don’t worry, I’m not going to thwart your efforts to stop Poseidon.  You’re doing me a favor.  That group makes life for a criminal like me difficult.  Their global bloodlust is so goddamn tiring.  I want my streets back, and I will run them how I see fit.  As long as you hold up this deal?  I’ll keep my mouth shut for a week.”

Fisk clicked the pen with his thumb and signed on the dotted line, along with the signature of the Director of the FBI, “I’m fully aware that if you don’t save this fine country of yours, that I don’t walk.  So, go.  Go be goddamn heroes.  And then you smile, and eat the shit that you have to, knowing that I’ll be walking free in New York City within about a week from now.  You can let yourselves out.  I am going to finish my steak and eggs.”

The guards opened up the door, and they took the original signed document and left. 

Fisk, true to his word, finished eating in his shackles and gray jumpsuit as the guard came and turned up the classical music again.  Steve shoved the file inside his vest again and Natasha looked at him and Loki, “Jesus, that made my skin crawl, but I didn’t expect it to go that easy.”

Steve blew out a breath, “Let’s get out of here, and then we can talk about how easy listening to that bastard was.”

* * *

The guards at the door must have been on Fisk’s payroll, or maybe they were just following orders from their boss. 

It didn’t really matter.

Steve, Loki, and Natasha didn’t really have time to care or figure out the political inner workings of the prison system and who was or wasn’t bought off by Fisk.  The guards watched them leave as they traveled down the hallway, and turned right as they walked away from the classical music.  But then the trio saw another three guards coming down the same hallway from before. 

These men were caught up in small talk about the Yankees baseball game from last night, “Tommy, I don’t know how you can call yourself a New Yorker when you’re not a Yankee’s fan.” 

One thing was clear.  They _weren’t_ the same three guards from before.  They were three normal guys talking about last night’s ball game, just trying to get through another day of work.  One of those _normal_ guys lifted his eyes up and caught Loki’s face as they passed.  Loki saw it right away as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. 

 _Recognition_. 

Or at least the spark flickered in his brain, that he recognized Loki’s face from somewhere.  Loki turned his head around and caught the other two men, now turning around to stare, “Rogers, Romanoff…walk faster, _now_.”  They did.  They picked up the pace as Natasha’s heels clicked a little faster against concrete. 

“Hey, you three.  Wait up, we need to see some identification.”

The guards had turned around at the T-intersection just as Natasha was the last to get inside the elevator.  She started pressing the main floor’s button rapidly, “Shit, we must be past our hour mark.  There’s a shift change about to happen, and the guards outside Fisk’s door were obviously paid to keep their mouths shut about us.” 

“Come on, come on…shut,” Loki’s anxiety added to Natasha’s as Steve saw the three men running towards the elevator now, “Yeah, these men are definitely not paid off and are just trying to do their jobs.  Come on, shut, goddamnit.”

The doors finally did start to shut, but before the three of them could take a breath, the elevator was stopped by a single hand sneaking in, right before it closed.  The doors opened all the way back up again.  Tommy, the man who apparently wasn’t a Yankees fan, spoke first, “You two look new…and we don’t usually see women down this far in the gutter of Rikers.  You lost?”

Fuck.

 _‘Appeal to the lowest common denominator_ ,’ Natasha thought.  She stepped forward to try and do her best to flirt her way out of this, “Oh, I’m rather embarrassed, sir.  These two were walking me around to do my audit…”

Natasha flashed her visitor’s badge at them as she ran it past the slight hint of cleavage emerging from her button down.  Drawing her lip between her teeth, she batted her lashes from behind her glasses at the man, “I told Bobby and John here, that I never new how many levels there were to Rikers.  I mean, as an auditor, I should really know that, right?  But before I got started on the upper levels where the inmates are, I wanted to get a real bottom up feel for the place, you know?”

The flirtation attempt was weak at best. 

Natasha’s cleavage wasn’t even modest.  It was almost non-existent.  But maybe it was the lack of women in the prison, or the fact that she drew attention to her lips…but for whatever reason, it seemed to work as Tommy stared at her, “Yeah, I like to get a real _bottom up_ feel too.  Care if I escort you to the main level again?  I sure would feel better about it.”

Good god. 

Loki glared at Steve, waning off any thoughts in Rogers’ head about being over protective in the moment.  But Tommy’s friends joined him in the elevator, and any notion about this only being an attempt for Tommy to hit on Natasha, was left out into the hallway as the doors shut.

Tommy stood right by Natasha, and the other two men worked their way behind Loki and Steve as one of the guys said, “Hey Tommy, stop at the next floor.  I just got called by Ray.  They’re needed up in Cellblock E for a rowdy inmate.”

Tommy looked back and nodded and then put his hand on Natasha’s shoulder as he reached over, “Excuse me, while I just push this little button over here.”  They were still two levels away from the front entrance as he pushed LL2.

Steve was watching Tommy like a hawk, and it wasn’t because of his poor pick-up lines towards Natasha.  It was because of the bead of sweat that he could see forming on the back of his neck.  Loki caught the twitching of one of the men’s fingers behind him too as the elevator doors opened up on LL2, and four guards awaited them.

Tommy acted friendly and said hello to the man named Ray as the four guards crowded into the elevator.  Natasha acted shy towards Tommy, as she let one of the guys take her spot while she stepped back towards Steve. 

It was all an act…on both ends.  And everyone knew it as Steve, Loki, and Natasha, stood in a tight triangle in the middle of an already full-service elevator.  The doors creaked open again.  This time, on LL1. 

Turns out, no one bought Natasha’s flirtation attempt.  And it turns out, Tommy was pretty fucking smart.  He and the other two guards initially had called for back-up.  And then _more_ back-up when they started running.  Two more guards stepped in, and stood on both of the far sides of Steve and Loki. 

Shit.  

That was nine guards in all, in case anyone was counting.  Nine…versus the three of them.  Natasha, Loki, and Steve knew exactly what was about to happen.  They were trapped and were vastly outnumbered. 

And all because, three guys who just happened to be doing their jobs, had caught this morning’s news and saw their faces plastered all over the T.V. screens.  All because they happened to recognize Loki first, and then Steve, and then finally Natasha with all of her flirtatious attempts in her blonde wig. 

The guards were innocent, and thought they were doing the right thing, which really was the perfect little twist on this tightly tangled web they were caught in right now.  The _only_ good thing about any of this, was that there were no guns. 

Loki and Steve peeked down.  Natasha started making numbers with her hand right above her ass.  She pointed to Steve first and put four fingers out at her backside, and then pointed to the back.  She was indicating that Steve would be the lucky one to take out the four, not small, men at his back side. 

Natasha pointed to Loki next, telling him, he had the two guards to his right.  She left the last three for herself with two guards in front of her and one to her left.  It was the best planning they could do with no space or option to communicate.  And right as the elevator began moving, Tommy’s finger moved to the bright red stop button.

Steve…was tired.  Goddamnit, they all were.  But all he wanted, was for one mission…One fucking side mission to go off without a hitch.  He couldn’t remember the last mission that went according to plan.  Even when they arrested Loki, the man that he was fighting side-by-side with now, it didn’t go according to plan because Maria and Tony and everyone else showed up. 

And god, was Steve exhausted.  He just wanted to be back at the compound with everyone safe.  With Natasha, holding her close and kissing her…With where they were in bed this morning.  With everyone and everything in the world that mattered most to him.  Everyone that he was so thankful for having in his world. 

But _that_ would have to wait.  Nothing went according to plan.  Expect the unexpected.  All of those brutal truths Fury had taught them.

Rinse.  Wash.  And fucking repeat.  

Yes, Steve was tired as he took a huge breath and spoke low, not hiding any of his annoyance.

“Before we get started, does anyone wanna get out?”

The answer was no.  And the repeated cycle of chaos started again.  The button was pushed and the old elevator halted to a stop as the three of them started to fight. 

Natasha went low, crouching down toward the ground and sweeping the first man’s legs out from under him as she punched Tommy in the junk.  The man to her left went to grab her hair, but only succeeded in pulling the wig off instead, much to his surprise.  Natasha pulled the taser out of her pants and jabbed it into his side.  His body went rigid and started convulsing as he collapsed to the ground…on top of Tommy…who was already on top of the guy she’d initially knocked down. 

Loki wasn’t nearly as strong of a fighter as Natasha and Steve were.  He hadn’t been in the field too many times during his time as an agent, and most of his work as a criminal was from pulling the strings.  But he was motivated.  And he was wiry. 

The officer behind him advanced, sliding his arms around Loki’s neck.  The guard to his side punched him in the stomach over and over, causing hisses in pain to come out.   

But Loki played dirty.  Plunging his thumb into the guard’s eye who’d just hit him, Loki used the tight space to his advantage as the man fell back against the elevator panel.  His thick rubber boot struck the guard’s stomach with a solid kick, and Loki used the leverage, slamming all of his weight back into the officer with his arms around his neck.

It was a real cluster-fuck, and that was only half of the elevator’s occupants. 

Steve was pinned back by two men standing behind him as they each grabbed an arm.  He caught Loki’s eye gouge out of his peripheral and Natasha’s dick punch in front of him.  Steve groaned loudly because the other two men struck his own groin with a knee and his own stomach with a closed fist. 

“Listen, you fucking assholes.”  Steve tried to talk, but the words barely made it out of him.

And they weren’t listening. 

They all thought they were doing their jobs and helping out their country to bring in traitors, whose names and faces were blasted across the morning news.  Steve pulled and pulled, finally freeing his left arm, only to pound on the guard’s face who’d been holding it.  With his fist clenched, Steve hit him like a battering ram.  One, two, and then three times as blood spurted out from his nose and onto Steve’s hand. 

Two guards tried to latch onto his other arm, but Steve was lashing out at all of the annoyance and anger he felt right now.  With a big kick, Steve’s leg swung in the air.  The rubber sole of his boot landed square on another guard’s jaw as a loud cry came out, along with more spit and more blood. 

Instinct took over.  And the men behind Steve, who were both holding onto his right arm, paused from the sickening crunch they’d just heard from a boot meeting their co-worker’s jaw. 

It was a slight hesitation, but it was _enough_ …Steve escaped from their grasp and turned around, only to glare at them, “We’re not guilty of those things on the news.”  But they weren’t listening still.  Steve couldn’t blame them, but this was beyond exhausting. 

Steve’s frustration came out with a growl when they tried to attack again.  He grabbed the back of both of their necks, smashing their heads together to knock them out as they toppled to the ground. 

That was two out of the nine.

Loki yelled over, “Natasha, where’s your knife?”

Tommy had gotten up and currently had Natasha pinned against the elevator door.  But that was his mistake, because it only gave her something to work with, “You’re gonna have to work on your pick-up lines, Tommy.” 

Lifting her arm, Natasha straightened her fingers and shoved them straight into his throat with a stabbing thrust.  She could see his eyes widen as he gasped for air.  He still had a firm hold, but she’d found enough space in order to climb him like a tree as she stepped on his knee.  The momentum took over as he loosened his grasp, and then all of a sudden, he was hunched over and her thighs were wrapped around his neck. 

Natasha was above everyone in the elevator now, and Steve yelled out to her, “Here, Nat.  Catch!”  He tossed his nightstick and she caught it.  Almost in the same motion, she whacked the other two men on the head, who had just managed to stand up again.  They weren’t up for long because the impact from the steel shaft made them collapse with a loud thud. 

That was three and four knocked out now.  

Steve yelled back at Loki, “No knives.  They think they’re doing their job, Loki.  Knock em out and let’s get the fuck out of here.”

Loki cursed, evading another kick to the back of his knees, but he couldn’t reach his nightstick.

Tommy’s airway was constricted and his gasps increased as he grabbed hold of her thighs, but it was no use.  Natasha had him in her web as he tried to slam her body back into the wall.  With each one of his thrashes, Natasha squeezed harder as his vision started to fade, “Just fucking pass out, Tommy.”

He was waning and Natasha tried to toss Loki the nightstick, but Tommy grabbed it instead.  In a last-ditch effort, he found enough strength to try and hit her in the side of the head with the club. 

She dodged away from the first move, and ducked from the second.  But he was thrashing and slicing the stick through the air, and finally caught the side of her head on his third try. 

It was enough of a frenzy that Natasha was caught off guard and loosened her hold on him.  A second later, he threw her off of him and she fell to the floor, landing right on top of the two guards she’d just incapacitated. 

Natasha moaned loudly from the impact on her head and her back as Tommy stood above her now.  It was literally an elevator full of moving parts and bodies as he scowled at her and tried to kick her face in.  She evaded his first stomp, but Steve grabbed him from behind as he tried again, “Hey asshole, you might not have noticed this before, but she’s fucking taken.”

Steve was pretty much mauled as a result of helping Natasha.  The other two guards behind him attacked and tried to overwhelm him. 

Punches to his sides.  Blows to his kidneys.  And bashes to his knees. 

It didn’t matter though, because all Steve saw was Natasha on the ground. 

She was rubbing a bruise already forming on the side of her head and back, but she still managed to smirk towards Steve as she grabbed her taser and shoved it right in Tommy’s thigh.  He started shaking like he’d been electrocuted and she didn’t let up.  She slugged him in the groin, stood up, and landed the final blow to him as her taser hit his neck. 

Tommy screamed out in pain as saliva came out of his mouth.  And then he was _finally_ knocked out cold with his friends.

That was five.

She stood up and shook off where she’d been hit.  Natasha and Steve caught each other’s heated gaze, just for a second, before Steve turned around and worked on his remaining two guards.  Loki’s face was bleeding from a cut above his eye as Natasha tossed him the nightstick.  He clobbered the officer in front of him first, and clocked the guard behind him second.  They slunk down to the ground against the elevator walls as he let out a sigh of relief.

That was six and seven, all alive, but _very_ unconscious.

It was about fucking time.

Loki was breathing heavily with a bleeding face.  Natasha was heaving with a bruised neck and back.  And with how she landed on the ground, her previously dislocated shoulder from Rumlow was throbbing in pain.

The good news was seven were on the ground, passed out.  The bad news?  There were still two guards left, and Steve, Natasha, and Loki were battered and beaten, and ready for this to be over.

Using the extra space available now, Steve grunted and swung a roundhouse kick in the air, connecting the steel toe of his boot directly with his windpipe.  A strangled sound came out of the guard as he landed on his knees, only to be met with a taser to the neck from Natasha. 

That was eight.

Enough was enough.  Steve’s face was read.  His back was sore and bruised.  He had a laceration on his eyebrow, that had blood running down his cheek and into his beard.  They were all _so_ over this.  Only one remained.  And one on one?  There was really no match, no matter how tired Steve was. 

Steve grabbed the last guy and put him into a choke hold.  Turning around and sucking in as much air as he could, Steve rested his very tender back against the wall.

The chokehold tightened as the guard tried to dig at Steve’s hands first, and then he was grasping at nothing.  Like he was trying to find air with his fingers.  Natasha leaned over to grab onto the railing to lean against Loki as he said through rasped breathing, “Rogers, hurry up.”

Steve groaned loudly and rolled his eyes, “Loki, please…just shut the fuck up.” 

It was done.  The man tumbled to the ground like everyone else.

That was nine.  _Finally._

Maybe five minutes had passed.  Five minutes.  Nine bodies.  A task-force trio.  And a blonde wig on the ground.

It all left the three of them coughing and trying to collect their breath.  And rubbing sore body parts as they wiped spit and blood off of their faces.  Loki looked around at the piled-up bodies, and then looked at Steve before he burst out laughing, “You kiss Romanoff with that potty mouth of yours, Rogers?” 

“I plan to Loki, as soon as we get the hell out of here.”  Steve stepped forward as he put his hand on Natasha’s shoulder for balance.  He stepped in between the bodies on the ground and toward the elevator panel.  Natasha arched her back, feeling the searing pain at her side as she clasped her fingers around his hand. 

Natasha was panting from everything that’d just happened as she looked up at Steve, “I love you.” 

“I know.” 

It was instantaneous.  Almost involuntary.  Her statement and his answer. 

So was Loki’s reaction as he groaned loudly, “ _Good god_ , first you two almost have eye sex in the midst of this fiasco we were in a minute ago, and then I have to listen to you literally recite _Star Wars_ to each other.  Well in that case?  Han…Leia…Let’s get the fuck out of here, shall we?”

No one was wasting time.  They simply were running on empty, and had somehow taken out nine guards between the three of them.  Steve looked at his partners, “Nat, hit everyone with a taser again, to make sure they’re good and knocked out.  Loki, give me a boost.  We’re gonna have to climb the last floor through the elevator shaft, because they’re all going to be waiting for us as the doors open.”

Natasha caught her breath finally and grabbed the taser.  She was still in her goddamn heels as she bent down to stun every one of the nine guards, one last time.  Loki lifted Steve up to pry open the ceiling panel and happened to shove his hands right into his behind, “Hey Rogers, it’s taken me 12 years, but I finally get to be up close and personal with this nice ass of yours…it was worth the wait.” 

Natasha couldn’t help it, she joined in with Loki’s laughing now as Steve groaned.  Maybe it was ridiculous.  But their immediate threat had been squashed, and they were coping through humor, which was a lot better than panicking.    

Steve had pulled himself…and his ass up through the ceiling.  And more importantly, away from Loki. 

He was standing on top of the elevator now as Natasha looked around and said, “Steve, I think we send this back to LL3 where Fisk is at, after I release the stop switch.  It will buy us a little more time.  We’re gonna have to move quick, though.  Loki, use Steve, and get yourself up there too.”

Loki was out of the elevator a few seconds later as Steve leaned down to wait for Natasha.  Leaving the wig where it was, she tossed her glasses down too before turning around and shrugging at Steve, “The gig is up.  They know we’re here.  Might as well give up being a blonde…It was never my thing to begin with.”

Steve smirked at her as she pushed LL3, hit the red switch, and jumped up as Steve caught her hand and pulled her up a couple of seconds later. 

The good news, was that the elevator was old and slow and as it groaned to life again.  The three of them had jumped off of the top of the elevator, where a steel ladder on the wall led them north.  Steve yelled from the bottom of the ladder, “Loki keep going.  We’re not going through the elevator doors.  We’ll slide around on the ledge and then sneak out the exit at the side.”

Loki held onto the rungs, as Natasha followed him, and Steve brought up the rear. 

Loki whispered down at his teammates, “Hey Rogers, I bet you wish you were in Natasha’s spot right now, so you could see me up close and personal too.”

Steve shut his eyes, as Natasha grinned, “Loki, you’re probably going to have to wait 12 more years for that one.”  He joked back at her right away, “Yeah, but that’ll be more than worth the wait too.”

They were all holding onto the ladder at separate points, and standing at the main level.  Loki stood on the ledge and held onto some metal tubing above him that lined the shaft.  Steve looked down at the dark cavern below, “No joking around anymore, Loki.  Be careful.  These ledges are slippery.  Nat, you’re not in rubber boots either, so careful with your footing.”

Loki, then Natasha, and then Steve inched their way by the main elevator door, and then all the way to the south wall towards the side exit.  There was a red lever on the door.  “Is this gonna sound an alarm?” Loki asked.  Natasha looked quickly at Steve and quickly answered “We don’t have time to waist, just pull it and then we gotta run, Loki.”

They all winced as Loki lifted the lever and opened the door…to silence. 

For once the odds were in their favor.  Ironically, that only mean that the door wasn’t actually working properly.  Turns out, that auditor coming later today might want to look into a faulty alarm on an exit in an elevator shaft.

Loki stuck his head out the door first.  It wasn’t clear, but they could hear the commotion from down an adjacent hallway.  They quickly made their way into the corridor as Steve prevented the door from shutting loudly.  Natasha slipped her heels off, to reduce any other sounds. 

They turned a corner…and ran right into Officer Lee. 

“Oh, thank god, Stan.  We gotta get out of here now.”  Stan looked around and didn’t even hesitate, “Aw hell, maybe this will be my last day on the job after all.  Screw formal retirement.” 

Stan led them down a different hallway, that took them out a side exit.  They made it out just as guards flooded the main service elevator entrance, bringing the nine knocked out bodies back up for everyone to see.

Not the task-force trio and Stan, though. 

They were out of the prison as they heard yelling and shouting when the elevator doors opened.  The guards inside realized what’d happened, and Stan and his three escapees found the transport van with Lieutenant Hill in it. 

Stan looked over and said, “Change of plans, we gotta get into my SUV because I’m definitely not going to be able to come back to Rikers with this van, now.”

His SUV was only a few cars away as they all ran to it and piled in.  The next thing they knew, the peculiar, but godsend of a security guard, was yelling at them all to duck down in the back of the SUV.  Loki was in the middle and Natasha and Steve were in the back, each covered by blankets.  Stan waved to the guards at the exit, faking being sick for the day before he drove back over the Rikers Island bridge. 

Back to the mainland, and away from the dangers behind them.

Yes, the prison guard, who was a retired veteran already, and was so close to retirement at the prison, turned out to have nerves of steel and a heart of gold.  And maybe…a moral compass that even rivaled Steve’s. 

Stan never questioned the people in his vehicle.  He _knew_ what he needed to do in the moment it needed to be done.  And he chose the right, but harder path.  He did what he could, which was more than anyone could ask.

As he was crossing over the bridge, Stan yelled out the window, “Excelsior!” much to the surprise and amusement of Lieutenant Hill, who was wiping his brow. 

And as for the task-force trio?

Loki had come up for air and peeked over the back seat.  He smirked and lifted up the blanket, catching Steve and Natasha in the midst of a passionate kiss that had, ‘Thank god you’re okay,’ written all over it.  Loki grinned and whispered, “I wish this is the worst thing I’ve ever caught you two doing.  But how about you be civil and thank this nice old man who just saved all of our asses.”

Excelsior, indeed. 

They all had something to be thankful for in that moment.  For each other.  For Marias’ father.  For being alive and okay.  For getting the information needed from Fisk.  And for an old man, who represented all the good in this country and world, by simply doing what he could with the little power that he had. 

That was what taking Poseidon down would take. 

It didn’t matter if their power was great or small.  They _all_ had a stake in this.  Anyone that had loved ones.  Anyone that knew the fake stories in the news were bullshit.  Anyone that loved this country, and loved their countries overseas.  Anyone that could stand, and chose to stand.  That’s what it would take. 

Strength.  Power.  Courage. 

Stan seemed to understand all three qualities, as well as anyone in the vehicle with him.  He seemed to understand that power, small or large, could be great. 

And with great power comes great responsibility.    

* * *

**Present Day –** Task-Force Compound. 

Lieutenant Hill shook Steve’s hand 30 minutes after they left Rikers Island.  He asked Rogers to keep him posted on Maria, but knew it was best for him not to know where they were all at right now.  It was safer for everyone involved.  He was just glad he could help in the small way that he did. 

Stan shook all of their hands and almost had a twinkle in his eye as he winked at them before driving off in the opposite direction.  The task-force trio was left alone, feeling dumbfounded and looking disheveled with what’d just transpired over the last two hours.  They loaded into their own SUV as Steve let Fury know they were all okay and headed back to the compound.    

Loki laid down in the back seat, mumbling something about his body not seeing that kind of a workout in years.  And Natasha smiled back at him and said, “You know, Loki.  I love you, too.”

Loki grinned at her before shutting his eyes, “I know, Romanoff.  I know.”  He lifted his head one last time though and muttered, “If you two are Han and Leia, does that make me Chewbacca?”    

She smiled as he shut his eyes again and turned towards the man next to her.  Natasha laced her fingers in with Steve’s as he drove on side roads, until the city met the outskirts and they were making the backroad turns and twists until they were at the compound, well before the noon hour struck.

They didn’t say anything the entire ride back to the safehouse.  Natasha just rested her head on him, breathing through the pain in her side and shoulder, and on her head.  Loki was doing the same with his own face and knee.  And Steve was doing the same with his back, and sides…and stomach and arms and face.  They were all left thinking of near misses and being surrounded by nine guards, but finding a way to fight for every inch and get out of it.  She held onto his hand tight, inhaling every part of him she could as he squeezed right back and leaned over to kiss the crown of her head, “Stronger together, Nat.”

Each of them were so thankful that everyone in the vehicle was in one piece and alright. 

And the _only_ thing that mattered when they arrived back at the compound well before the noon hour, was they were okay, and everyone was incredibly grateful.  The team welcomed the task-force trio with a standing ovation and applause when they came in through the garage door.  It was silly, but celebrating this small but important victory was necessary.  It was a mission that went sideways as usual, but it was still a win, nonetheless.  And they all _needed_ a win.

Bucky grinned as he pulled Natasha in, smacked Loki’s shoulder, and then gave Steve a huge hug, “You should see the news now, Steve.  You guys have officially taken the spotlight away from the rest of us…so there’s that.”

Steve groaned.  That was purposefully why he didn’t turn on the radio on their drive back, “Yeah, I think I have a good idea of what the news is saying.  I think the truth of what actually happened is written all over our faces.  Let’s keep that shit turned off for the rest of the day, okay?”

Clint was right after Bucky and nodded at Steve and shook his hand before bringing his sister in to his arms, “You’re showing me up, you know that?  Kicking ass in heels and a pantsuit…”

Sarah was next and hugged her son tight, “There you are, Steve.  You always make me proud, but you sure know how to make my heart beat fast.”  She moved over to Loki, and then Natasha too.  Wanda followed suit, and she didn’t let any of them go for a while, holding Loki in her arms the longest. 

And then Tony, Sam, and Bruce, and everyone else in the compound made their way through the three of them, all being so relieved and thankful that they were back in one piece.    

Dr. Strange even raised his glass towards the trio from the medical suite, “So, I guess your night watching has expanded to day breaking, or something of the sorts, right Rogers?”

Fury was waiting last for the three of them as Steve handed him the signed file by Fisk, “Nice job, Rogers.  According to the news, you’re no longer just part of this traitorous group.  You three are the leaders of this rat pack.  After showing your faces at Rikers, this entire city is going to be thinking they see Romanoff in red _or blonde_ hair now.  Not to mention they’ll be looking for anyone and _everyone_ in a prison guard uniforms.”

Jokes aside, Fury took a breath and looked at his three _agents._ They’d started as his trainees and became his agents 12 year ago.  And it’s truly what they still were to him, no matter the labels or fact that Loki and Natasha hadn’t officially been in the FBI for seven years.

In a very concerned voice, he simply asked them, “Seriously, though.  You guys okay?”

They all looked at each other as Loki grinned, “Yeah, Fury.  We’re good.  Trust me when I say the guards at Rikers look a lot worse than us.  And let’s just say we all got an up close and personal look at each other’s asses out of it.”

Natasha couldn’t help it.  She started cracking up and Loki mirrored her.  It was sheer relief after a morning full of fighting.  Steve looked down at the love of his life and his friend.  They’d fought together after so many years without, and they all got out of it together.  That sheer relief washed over him too as he pinched his nose.  And a second later he was laughing too, right along with Loki and Natasha.    

The rest of the team understood the coping that was going on, but still looked at them with a few raised eyebrows and chuckles of their own, knowing…it was a moment that you just had to be there for.

Steve caught his breath, and looked back to his leader, “Morse and her team, and the Mercs are all gone already?”  Fury nodded his head, “Yeah, they left about an hour ago.  Pretty much as soon as you called in.  They should be fine, because their names and faces aren’t anywhere in the news.  They took an SUV and are making the drive to Niagara right now, and are gonna scope out the drive from the airport, all the way to the reserve and see what they can find.”

Natasha looked worried again, “Fury, they know not to engage right?  They’re just scoping it out and gathering data.  They know to keep their distance?”

Fury nodded, “Yeah.  They’ll be fine, Romanoff.  They should even be back by tomorrow at the latest.  Ross is working with Phillips at contacting overseas allies.  It should give us all a little time to plan.  And then we’ll roll out.  Hopefully, in plenty of time before Poseidon moves from their hideout.” 

“Yeah, and everything should go according to plan, right Fury?” 

The sarcasm was heavy in Steve’s voice as Fury looked a little surprised.  But Natasha and Loki understood.  Enough was enough.  The end was in site.  And what they would absolutely bet on, was the fact that ‘the plan,’ would _definitely_ _not_ go accordingly. 

But they had each other. 

Fury nodded his head, “You know, Rogers.  This is what I warned you all about, back at Quantico.  Rarely do things ever go according to plan.  I’m sure glad I was right about all of you, though.  You were all _damn impressive_ today.”  Fury wasn’t just talking to the three of them as he spoke loudly and looked around the room.  And he wasn’t just talking about today.  It was a callback to the long running joke about Fury holding back on his accolades, all the way back to the beginning.  And everyone of them knew it as Fury smiled again and spoke to everyone, “Damn impressive.  All of you.”

Sarah didn’t miss a beat and brought them all some coffee as a little four-year old boy appeared from behind her and stood by the kitchen counter.  Peter looked like he’d been crying as he stared at the three of them. 

Wanda came over and held his hand, “Peter, remember what we said.  They’re three of the _strongest_ and bravest people we know.  They’re okay, sweetie.”

Bucky was talking quietly to the three of them as Sarah and Wanda brushed Peter’s hair, “He uh…he caught the tail end of a news report that was talking out of their asses.  They said something like…they didn’t know if the three of you had escaped from Rikers or were in a pile of bodies that was reported to be found inside the prison.”

“Jesus Christ.”  Steve’s annoyance with what he expected the news reports to be had spiked, just from that small snippet.  But it was broken up as Peter ran over to Natasha.  She groaned as she picked him up from the pain in her shoulder, but she didn’t care as Loki smiled and rubbed his hair and Steve wiped a tear away from his cheek.

“Hey Peter,” Natasha started, “You remember…We’re all pretty tough and brave here.  Just like you.  So, even though we have some bumps and bruises and a few little cuts, we’re all okay.  Just like all of our friends are gonna all be okay too.”  Peter sniffled as Steve put his arm around Natasha and Peter leaned his head into Steve’s arm, “Loki, you promised me more card tricks.”

The innocence of a child.

It was enough to make them smile, and also feel like crying themselves, but Loki looked at Wanda and then back at Peter, “Yeah, I did, little guy.  Why don’t we go work on a couple right now, okay?”

Natasha kissed his cheek as he jumped down and took Loki’s hand to go over to the table and Wanda winked at her friend, “I guess you’re officially promoted from the task-force pet, Loki.  Be careful there.  Peter might just draw you in person in his next picture. 

Strange waved Steve and Natasha over to the medical suite as he spoke quietly to them, “You know.  I’m truly, not into _whatever that was_ , with your all of your affection and hugs.  But, I am rather proud of the pain management we’ve been able to work through with Thor and Maria.  The other three are still out of it.  But I thought you’d like to see that two of your friends are awake and would like to see you.

Steve and Natasha looked at each other as Strange moved out of the way.  Cho and Jane were off in the other corner with Laura, working on adjusting Rhodey and Rand and Murdock, but they all smiled at the two of them.  The doctors couldn’t understand exactly what the trio had been through.  But they’d witnessed _exactly_ what their five patients were going through physically, all from something that hadn’t even happened 16 hours ago. 

And Steve and Natasha and Loki threw themselves into danger, _again,_ within the same 24-hour period.  A person didn’t have to understand a lot, to know the strength, power, and courage they exhibited time and time again. 

Steve went to sit by Thor, and Natasha went and immediately started tearing up at Maria’s side.  Her burn bandages didn’t quite reach her neck, but they were all the way along her right side.  Maria was trying her hardest not to wince in pain as she let out a few shaky breaths, “I can’t believe you were out there again, Natasha.  All while we were sleeping.”

“Maria, I’m so…” Natasha’s voice started shaking, but Maria cut her off, “Don’t you _dare_ , Romanoff.  You’d switch positions with me in a heartbeat, and I know that.  This isn’t you, so don’t you dare.  We’re all in this.  Besides…at least I don’t have to go through life looking like a pirate, like Thor over there.”

Thor and Steve weren’t as emotional, but it didn’t mean they weren’t feeling everything on the inside, just as much.  Thor sniffed through his nose and scoffed, “Well, I’d rather be a pirate than the bionic man like Rhodey with his metal hip and rods put in his leg…I’m sure he will laugh at that when he wakes up.”

The dark humor was how Maria and Thor were coping, just as the inappropriate humor was how Loki and Natasha dealt with the dire situation earlier in the elevator.  Thor looked over at Maria and nodded his head before turning back to Steve and Natasha, “We’ve already talked to the others, but we wanted to tell you…thank you, good friends.  I don’t think Maria nor I would be staring at you today…with one or two eyes…if you wouldn’t have all acted so quickly to save us.”

Maria wiped tears from Natasha’s eyes as she leaned down to press her forehead over her friends and Steve let his hand rest on Thor’s shoulders.  Yes, it truly was all something to be thankful for. 

* * *

Fury pretty much ordered the three of them to go up and rest for a few hours.  And Peter, didn’t want to let any of them out of his site, but Loki shoved the boy towards Steve and Natasha, “Go on, kid.  No matter how close we all were today, I don’t think I’m getting in their bed.  But you can.”

Loki went off to his own room and crashed immediately.  And Steve and Natasha did too, with Peter lying in between them after being read the book, _‘I Love You Stinky Face,’_ first by Steve and then again by Natasha.  Steve finally took in those moments that Natasha did on the ride home as he held his nephew and looked at her, falling asleep.  She was still in her oxford shirt.  It was untucked now, with her black pants still on. 

Natasha was the last thing Steve saw when he fell asleep and was the first thing he saw when he woke up, five hours later after sleeping soundly. 

Peter had snuck out a few hours earlier, and the door was left open a crack.  But it didn’t stop Steve from bringing Natasha closer into his arms.  It was such a different wake-up call than he’d had that morning, hours and hours ago.  That wake-up was after a horrible nightmare, that’d included Natasha’s grave and his nephew.  But not this time.  He woke up calm and relaxed, with her in his arms as she opened her eyes and smiled.  She’d slept peacefully too, without any nightmares for once, as she ran her fingers over his eyebrow that had dried blood on it. 

Steve turned into the palm of her hand, like he was falling into a pile of pillows, and breathed in every part of her he could.  It seemed like it was the 50th time today, but it didn’t matter because it was never enough as he whispered, “I love you.”  

“I know.”

He smiled and kissed her hand, hearing the reverse of their exchange in the elevator.  The temptation was there, to go and shut the door and continue what they’d started before Wanda interrupted their early morning tryst. 

But something else was interrupting them now. 

There was a smell lingering in the air.  

Scratch that. 

There were intoxicating, yet comforting, _smells_ in the air, causing their stomachs to instantly growl from how tired and overworked their bodies were. 

“Steve, at some point, this bad joke will get old.  But not now.  I know I was gone for a long time, but please tell me I’m not hallucinating.  That is the smell of your mother’s pumpkin pie, right?”

Steve smelled it too.  He also breathed in the aroma of so many other wonderful foods that had travelled up the floors of the compound and into their room.  If there was any smell or food that could break up the sexual tension between Steve and Natasha, it would be Sarah Rogers’s cooking.

They grinned, and let their stomachs lead the way as they groaned and stood up to change into jeans and sweatshirts.  Natasha threw her hair in a ponytail and they both splashed some cold water on their faces before they ran into Loki, heading down the stairs too, “I can sleep later.  I smell Sarah Rogers’s magic at work in the kitchen, and that is enough to wake a bear from hibernation.”

They were beyond tired and beaten up.  They were more than just exhausted, both from today, and from everything else.  It was the kind of weariness that wore into their souls, so they were more than happy to let their senses do the talking…and walking for them.

The three of them came downstairs, and it was a _madhouse_. 

The table had been extended with card table after card table.  It was lined with fancy linens and dinner ware, and had enough seating for every single person awake in the compound.  Candles lined the middle of the table, adding to the warm atmosphere before them. 

Peter was watching a cartoon in the living room.  And the doctors were all in the medical suite with Laura. 

And Sarah…had resumed her position as acting General of the kitchen.  Breakfast wasn’t enough.  They got a win today, and it was a cause for a celebration.  She’d worked with Tony this morning.  And he had called Happy to deliver everything she would need to prepare a feast. 

And a warm and inviting feast it was. 

It was well after 5 pm as Wanda and Bucky and Clint, and everyone else smiled at the three sleepy heads, coming into the kitchen. 

Ham and turkey.  Mashed potatoes and gravy.  Rolls and relish trays galore.  Green bean casserole and corn.  Sweet potatoes, stuffing, and cranberries.  And of course, pumpkin, cherry, pecan, and apple pie.  Sarah was the one who would need the sleep after this was all said and done with.  But there she was, directing Fury and Clint, Wanda and Bucky.  Every able-bodied person was hard at work as she took pictures and gave orders. 

Sarah was providing a feast to remember for this family of friends, and she was going to document it all with her camera phone as she turned and smiled at her son and Natasha and Loki, “Smile you three.  You are the heroes of the day.”

Steve was about to jokingly say something but Natasha stopped him, “Just smile, Steve.”  He did.  The three of them took the photo before joining everyone for another 20 minutes of help, and of course, some liquor-filled drinks that were more than deserved. 

Another 20 minutes of orders and photos and laughter as drinking and snacking and grazing occurred.  And then, they all were seated at the very long and beautifully decorated table together. 

Rhodey and Danny had even woken up too, welcomed by tears and hugs and thanks.  Murdock was still asleep and would be for awhile as they all raised a glass to him, and to the six individuals on their stakeout near Niagara. 

But they weren’t going to let this moment pass.  Rhodey was carefully helped over in a wheelchair.  He was in a lot of pain, but the relief from being alive and with everyone in the room, outweighed it.  He sat by Maria and Thor and Rand.  They were all hurting too, but were all so damn happy to be alive, about to eat a mouth-watering meal. 

Maria joked, “I guess we’re all at the kid’s table.”  But Thor corrected her, “No, Maria.  I think this is more of a misfit’s island.”  Everyone laughed, because they were the only ones who could possibly understand, that even in the darkest of times, humor can be found.

They all raised a glass to each other and cheered as they sat down to their feast.  Fury toasted the task-force as a whole.  And then gave thanks to Sarah, much to the snickering of Loki and Tony, and frowns of Bucky and Steve, and smiles of Natasha and Wanda.  Thor and Maria toasted their friends again, for saving them and thanked the doctors for their great work.  Strange even toasted Tony, for his _wonderful hospitality_ and facilities, much to the shock of everyone at the table.

And then Sarah toasted her sons, “Well.  This may not be a proper holiday, but I sure think it’s a reason to celebrate.  The country out there doesn’t know what is truly going on.  And you’ve all put your lives on the line multiple times in the span of 24 hours.  They will all know the truth eventually, outside of these walls.  And then they will all be just as thankful then, as we all are now.  For each other and for you.  For James.  And for Steven.”

A round of cheers and whistles came as Sam poured Maria some more water.  She couldn’t have liquor but she didn’t care.  Sam was pretty damn thankful too that she was awake and at his side. 

Steve stood up and spoke last, “I’m not one to usually do this, but my mom…she uh.  Well, she could find a way to make a deaf man hear with her heart.  And I’m pretty sure, I’d find a way to end world hunger if it meant I could have a slice of her pumpkin pie.  I know you all feel the same way.  And if you haven’t had it, you’ll feel that way soon enough.” 

More laughter through drinks.  Cho and Strange sat near ‘misfit’s island,’ and Clint was by Laura.  Jane had even taken her seat next to Thor.  And Tony and Pepper, and Bucky and Wanda and Loki, and Bruce and Betty, all sat side-by-side. 

Which left Peter, right in between Natasha and Steve as he continued, “I think Tony said it best to Ross last night.  We should all be thanking Clint and Natasha _and_ Loki.  Without Clint and Natasha, I don’t know where we’d all be.  They stopped the deal in Kazakhstan, and delayed Poseidon getting the money they needed almost two years ago.  We’re only here, able to fight because of that.  And Loki?  Your methods sure were you, in the most dramatic ways.  But without you working with Clint and Maria…Without you getting arrested nearly two months ago by us, and setting this all in motion…Well, Natasha wouldn’t be here.  We wouldn’t all be here together.  So, thank you to all of you.”

Natasha was crying as Peter hugged her.  Loki even teared up as Wanda brought him in for a kiss.  Laura leaned over to rest her head on Clint’s shoulder just for a moment as he looked very uncomfortable with all of affection, but sucked it up anyway. 

And then Steve ended with, “Okay, enough of that.  We all know what we’re thankful for tonight.  Now, let’s dig in.”

* * *

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay – I hope you were smiling during Stan’s appearance. Honestly, (shocker) I cried writing him into the story. I’ve been holding onto his appearance for a while, and wanted to wait for the right time. It just felt right this chapter, and it felt right with-it being Thanksgiving in the States. We all have a lot to be thankful for as MCU and Marvel fans because of Mr. Stan Lee. ❤
> 
> So, an update on my progress to the end. I’m fairly certain that there will be 30 chapters in total with this story. So, a couple of extras than I thought from a few chapters ago. I hope you don’t mind. But with my writing, I knew the ‘5’ left number was always fluid. Everything is really fleshed out to the end now, outline and plot wise. So, I’m fairly certain we’re at 4 chapters left. 
> 
> I’m so glad I was able to somehow wiggle my nose and find the time to finish Ch. 26 in time before Thanksgiving hits, because I do think the theme goes really well with where the team is at right now.
> 
> As far as Thanksgiving goes, I’m vague in this story with specific times of year, or specific dates beyond the ‘years ago’ and present-day timeline. But, this is as close to a holiday themed update as I could get. I’m very grateful for the blessings in life. And the fact that I’ve gotten to dive into this world and share this story with you…Well, it’s something I’m very thankful for as well. 
> 
> So, call me a sap, because it may be appropriate right now. But I just am truly thankful for this community of readers that have followed this journey. And while many of you may not be from the states, I would still like to pause as the American Holiday draws near, to give thanks to every single one of you. I’m truly thankful for you all. And that all just kind of bled into the theme of this chapter.
> 
> You know how much I love hearing from you, so let me know your thoughts on this update, where you think we’re going, and just for fun if you’d like…let me know what your Thanksgiving traditions are if you have any. I am going to Grandma’s to over-indulge, and then I have a ‘Friendsgiving’ on Friday, where I have to (get to…Get to!!!) cook a feast as well. I’m looking forward to it all!
> 
> Come follow me on Tumblr @eightieskat to chat about this story, anything Marvel, or anything in general!
> 
> Have a great week. And most importantly, have a WONDERFUL Thanksgiving!!! To all my international readers who don’t celebrate Thanksgiving, just have a wonderful day too, and know I’m thankful for you all, holiday or not 😊!! 
> 
> Cheers!!~~ Kat


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